Mice, Magic and a Mini-Majere
by chisscientist
Summary: In which Raistlin's experimentation with time goes massively awry, and both Dalamar and a much-changed Raistlin must deal with the consequences. AU.
1. A Knot in Time

Disclaimer: I am neither Margaret Weis nor Tracy Hickman, and I am unaffiliated with Wizards of the Coast. As such, Dragonlance doesn't belong to me, I make no money from this, and I am merely borrowing for your fun and my own.

Dalamar watched from his post by the door of the laboratory as Raistlin re-checked the preparations for the time travel spell. It looked perfect to him, but he also knew the spell was currently beyond his ability to read, let alone cast, so that didn't mean much. Dalamar had every confidence in his Shalafi, however.

Finally satisfied, Raistlin stood precisely in the center of the circle and raised his hands. The sand circle began to glow, and Raistlin's golden eyes glittered in the shadows of his hood.

Dalamar's hair started lifting with the sheer power in play in the laboratory, and he grinned. The joy of being able to actually see this was unbelievable! There couldn't be more than two mages on all of Ansalon capable of such a thing. He schooled himself to memorize the details – one day, he would be the mage in the center of the circle.

A tiny skittering from the side of the room caught his eye as a mouse scurried out from behind the bookcase. Dalamar gasped and lunged towards it – it must not touch the circle, not now! The mouse jumped over his grasping hands and sped straight into the circle, scattering the sandy daeg rune.

Dalamar lifted his eyes to look at his Shalafi. Raistlin was wrapped up in the magic. Face exultant, he raised one arm…

Dalamar raised his aching head from the floor, disoriented by the utter blackness. What was he doing on the floor, anyway? The stone was cold. "Shirak," he commanded. Nothing happened, and the splitting headache worsened so that he could hardly think. "Honestly," he grumbled, trying to remember what had happened and if it was likely to be safe to open the door. He remembered the mouse and groaned. His Shalafi was going to kill him for real this time.

"Shalafi?" asked Dalamar. Then louder: "Shalafi?" This was bad. Really bad.

A pair of disembodied eyes appeared in front of him. "The Master of the tower is hurt. You help him." The spectre demanded.

"Yes," said Dalamar, scrambling to his feet and feeling for the latch on the door. After a couple of tense moments, the door opened, letting in dim light from the stairs. Dalamar turned back, seeing a small form slumped in the center of a blackened circle of scorched sand. Stopping to fumble for a candle, which he lit with far more effort than such a minor thing should take, Dalamar stepped into the circle and knelt down beside his Shalafi. If it even was his Shalafi.

The person lying unconscious had fair skin and brown hair. He wasn't wearing black robes – there was a bit of what looked like common garden dirt and greenery around him, but decidedly no proper clothing. He was far too small and youthful for his Shalafi. A child, though Dalamar wasn't familiar enough with humans to know what age. The bone structure, however… and it wasn't like Raistlin had been born with golden skin and white hair. Of course.

The spell must have backfired in such a way as to turn everything within the circle back to what it had been at an earlier time. That would explain the dirt instead of velvet robes, too.

"You must help the master," the spirit demanded, glaring imperiously.

"Raistlin?" he asked, touching the kid's shoulder. Raistlin didn't respond. He was, however, breathing. Dalamar grimaced. If he couldn't cast the spell himself, there wasn't the slightest chance of him figuring out how to undo this any time soon. Maybe it was only physical, and Raistlin would be able to undo it when he came round. But if affected mind as well as matter, he was down a Shalafi and up a child.

Shaking his head, Dalamar carefully lifted the kid in his arms. He was an ungainly weight, all skinny legs and sharp elbows. "I am putting the Shalafi to bed," he informed the spirit. "I do not know how to reverse the magic."

The eyes watched him disapprovingly as he carried Raistlin down the stairs. Teleporting was far too risky with his head in its current state, but oh the stairs were long. At least he was going down.

Then he came to Raistlin's door, and had to argue with the spirit there for a good minute before it would agree that the child was the master of the tower, and that the master was hurt and would want to go to bed. Then he had to make sure the spirit would let him back in again if he left.

It wasn't until a lot later that Dalamar realized that he had acknowledged a kid as his master and master of the Tower.

A/N: does anyone know if Dalamar had siblings, especially younger siblings? I don't know much about his early life.


	2. Confusion Abounds

**Chapter Two: Confusion Abounds**

Raistlin woke with a pounding headache, and a dry, sore throat. He groaned and squinted his eyes half-open, as he looked for his water mug.

"Shalafi?" said a smooth voice from his left. Raistlin sat up, staring wildly about him, then squeezed his eyes shut, coughing a little. He recognized nothing in his surroundings.

He opened them again and took stock. There was an elf sitting across from him, wearing black robes, with a book in his hands and inkstained fingers. The room was lit by lanterns, and it was the sort of room only a very rich man would have. The bed had silk sheets. Nobody in Solace lived like this.

"Who are you?" asked Raistlin.

Something that might have been sadness flickered in the elf's eyes. "My name is Dalamar Nightson. I take it you do not recognise me?"

"Should I?" countered Raistlin. There was something horribly wrong with this whole situation. Where was he, and why was he in some rich man's bed he'd never seen before, wearing a black shirt that was far too big for him, what was this black robed elf doing here, and why did he feel so awful? And for all the richness of décor, this place felt dark and wrong in a way he couldn't quite describe.

"Perhaps. What is your name?" said the elf.

"If you know me, then you know my name," said Raistlin.

"I do indeed, Raistlin Majere," said the elf, smiling slightly.

"Where am I and why have you taken me here? Where is Caramon?" demanded Raistlin.

"You are in the Palanthas Tower of High Sorcery. Caramon - your brother?"

"You're lying. The only functioning Tower is at Wayreth!" said Raistlin.

"I do not lie. You can look out the window if you don't believe me."

"It's dark," said Raistlin uneasily.

"Palanthas is never entirely dark even at night. It looks nothing like the forest of Wayreth."

Raistlin frowned. He couldn't see much of anything out the window from this angle. He slid his legs out of bed and stood up gingerly, walking the few steps to the window. He looked down. There was darkness immediately at the base of the tower, but beyond that a blaze of lights spread out below him, lighting streets and houses for what looked like miles. Raistlin swallowed. Wherever he was, it most certainly was neither Solace nor Wayreth.

He looked again at Dalamar, taking in the elf's black robes, pouches and book and shivered.

"You should probably go back to bed," said Dalamar.

"You're a Black Robe, aren't you?" asked Raistlin.

"Yes," said Dalamar. "I won't eat you, child."

Raistlin stared at him for a few moments. "Does the Conclave know you've broken into the Palanthas Tower?"

Dalamar smirked. "Oh, they know I'm here, never fear. Now get back into bed unless you hope to catch a cold."

Not sure what else to do, Raistlin went back over to the bed and wrapped the covers round himself. "Why have you kidnapped me?" he asked.

Dalamar brushed his hair back from his face, smirking again.

"It's not funny!" said Raistlin. "Take me home. Car will be worried sick and so will mother. I want to go home." He felt the start of tears and wiped angrily at his eyes. Not now!

"Let me tell you a story," said Dalamar. "That is what one does with children, isn't it?"

Raistlin glared at him, little knowing that Dalamar's snark was at the thought of how much less intimidating that glare appeared on a child than it did on his Shalafi.

"Well, once upon a time a powerful mage managed to break the curse on the Tower of Palanthas. After that, he invited another mage to live in the tower of Palanthas, and study all the forgotten magics that had been lost since the Cataclysm. One of the mages experimented with a time travel spell, but there was a problem with one rune, and instead of travelling backwards in time, time rebounded on him, turning him into a child who remembered nothing of the great and powerful mage he had been. His name is Raistlin Majere, and the current year is 354 AC."

"Oh." said Raistlin. He was silent for a minute or so, then realized a pressing need. "Where's the bathroom?"

Dalamar blinked. "Down the hallway on the left."

* * *

Dalamar was awakened early the next morning by a Spectre. "Wake up. Something is wrong with the Master."

Dalamar rubbed his eyes, the events of the past day flooding back into his mind. "What now?" he asked, grabbing a dressing gown from the closet.

"Master started screaming, then started crying," said the Spectre.

"He's in his quarters?"

The eyes nodded.

"I'll be right down." Dalamar ran up a couple of stories worth of stairs, stopping right outside his Shalafi's bedroom. "Raistlin, are you all right in there?" he asked.

There was a pounding of feet, and the door burst open, clouting Dalamar in the face as something determinedly wrapped itself around his middle. Dalamar staggered backwards a couple of paces, looking down to find Raistlin clinging frantically to him.

"What on Krynn's the matter?" demanded Dalamar, mentally shoving away the fireball spell that had come to mind.

"There's ghosts! And dead things with teeth that are moving!"

Dalamar closed his eyes. "This is the bedroom of a Black Robe. You were expecting pretty flowers?" He frowned. "The toothy creatures are still in their jars, aren't they?"

Raistlin raised a tear-streaked face, gulped, and nodded.

Dalamar sighed. He had a feeling this was going to be a long day.

* * *

Raistlin felt thoroughly lost and bewildered that first day. Dalamar reassured him that the spectres would not harm him, but that wasn't true of many other things in the tower, or of the things in the Shoikan grove outside. The morning was spent combing through adult Raistlin's quarters and either moving or warding anything Dalamar considered potentially dangerous.

With Master Theobald, Raistlin would probably have contested his decisions, but with Dalamar Raistlin didn't dare. The dark elf had real power and his Robes suggested he might not be that careful in how he used it. Also, Raistlin was very glad to lose the toothy creatures. He had enough trouble with nightmares without things like that lying around. He didn't have Caramon to scare them away.

He was less pleased to lose access to adult Raistlin's journals and spellbooks. Surely he could look at a couple of the earliest ones?

"That one's mine," Raistlin announced, pointing at _Sleight-of-hand techniques to Amaze and Delight_. "I want it."

"Why do you have a book on sleight of hand?" asked Dalamar.

"I can't do real magic yet, but I can do this."

Dalamar shrugged. "Keep it, then. I will, however, be taking the journals."

"Why do you need them?"

"Raistlin effectively died without telling me everything I need to know."

"Then you don't think you'll change me back."

"I can't," Dalamar admitted. "I can't even read the spell he was using, much less invent my own altered version of the miscast spell. I might kill you trying."

Raistlin pondered this for a moment, then screwed up his courage to ask the question that had been bothering him all morning: "Why are you being nice to me?" Raistlin asked.

"Would you rather I were cruel?" asked Dalamar.

"No," said Raistlin. "But you're evil. It's confusing."

Dalamar sighed and sat down in the armchair nearest the bookcase. "As my Shalafi, Raistlin Majere was the most brilliant mage I have ever met, indeed, possibly the greatest to ever walk the face of Krynn. I honor him for this, though sometimes…" Dalamar trailed off, a look of fear in his eyes that shocked Raistlin.

"Did he hurt you?" Raistlin asked.

"Oh?" Dalamar blinked. "Well, nothing much. I just knew that he could any time he chose to."

_I don't want to be evil_, thought Raistlin uneasily, as Dalamar went back to perusing the bookcases_. I'm not sure I like my older self._

* * *

A/N: this is before Raistlin burned holes in Dalamar's chest, so Dalamar hates Raistlin less than when you see him in Legends. He also doesn't want to admit to child Raistlin just how nasty adult Raistlin could be when he wanted to.


	3. Great and Powerful Wizards

**Chapter 3: Great and Powerful Wizards**

The next few days passed slowly for Dalamar. Raistlin was intelligent, quiet and for the most part well-behaved but showed no signs of turning back on his own, and Dalamar's attempts to study the spell got him absolutely nowhere. That left Par-Salian as the only person on Krynn who might be capable of turning Raistlin back, not that he would do so if he could. The Head of the Conclave was far from well-disposed towards his Shalafi.

What a mess. What a stupid, horrible mess and what a tragedy to lose such knowledge as Raistlin possessed.

Well, there was no help for it. The Conclave had to know. So five days after the accident he left Raistlin under the watchful eyes of the undead spirits – he was not taking that child into a den of powerful wizards who hated him if he could help it – and met with the three order heads on the subject of What Majere's Done Now. It promised to be an interesting meeting.

The meeting was held in Par-Salian's laboratory to keep it unofficial. Dalamar looked around to check if there was anything obviously new and interesting, but nothing seemed special.

"I understand you have urgent news," said Ladonna. "Out with it."

"Justarius isn't here yet," Par-Salian reminded her.

"He's always late," she grumbled.

Dalamar sat quietly, hands folded in his lap, and listened to the two mages bicker. Then Justarius limped in and took his seat.

They all looked at Dalamar, who swallowed. "Raistlin Majere has had an accident," he began, then stopped.

"He is dead then?" asked Par-Salian. The mage looked outwardly concerned, but Dalamar swore he could see a pleased gleam in his eyes and Dalamar was very glad he had left Raistlin in Palanthas.

"Not precisely, no. He was casting the spell Span Land and Time-,"

The other mages all looked shocked. "He tried what!" said Ladonna.

"when a mouse ran into the circle just at the crucial point. He didn't see it, and the next thing I know everything is pitch black and I'm picking myself up off the floor with the world's worst headache. When I get a light working, I see… a nine-year-old boy in the middle of the circle – the circle is blackened and the whole area is scorched but there isn't a mark on the child. It was obviously Raistlin once I realized that time had turned in on itself. When he woke, he thought like the child he appeared to be and remembers nothing of the man he became."

"Are you sure he isn't faking it?"

"Why would he? In any case, his magic is undeveloped, formless. He has yet to cast a spell."

"Which rune was damaged?" asked Par-Salian.

"Daeg,"* said Dalamar.

"Can you reverse the damage?" The words hung in the air.

Par-Salian shook his head, not looking Dalamar in the eye. "No," he said. "I cannot."

Ladonna raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations on your promotion," she said. "Very cleverly managed."

"I…" Dalamar fought to control his voice. "Do you really think I would throw away such brilliance voluntarily, without even learning all he had to teach first?"

"Still, the result is much to our mutual benefit, whatever the exact cause," said Justarius. "Raistlin will not be a threat to anyone for many years."

Par-Salian nodded.

"We must consider how to prevent him ever posing such a threat again. He will not stay nine forever." said Ladonna.

"What are you suggesting?" asked Dalamar, scowling.

"You care about him," said Par-Salian.

"It's partly my fault he's in this state. And the boy is… harmless," said Dalamar. "He doesn't know you hate him, let alone why."

"I am not condoning murder, but he will grow up to be a menace to us all, unless something is done." said Par-Salian.

"You don't have a good track record when it comes to handling Raistlin Majere," said Dalamar. "You took a talented, ambitious, and unstable young man and cursed him in a way bound to damage anyone's sanity. You are then surprised when he becomes an uncontrollable menace who hates your guts?"

"He told you about his eyes?" said Par-Salian.

"After the accident, I got the child to give me Raistlin's journals and spellbooks. It seems he wrote quite a lot down he never told anyone, including me."

"Interesting," said Par-Salian. "How do you find the child to deal with?"

"Highly intelligent of course, curious, quiet as far as children go and quite well behaved, although that may be partly because he's afraid of me. I am, after all, a Black Robe."

"True." Said Par-Salian, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. "The environment in the Tower of Palanthas is hardly a healthy one for a child. We don't want him to become too comfortable with undead and the like."

"Are you trying to prevent Raistlin becoming a menace, or trying to prevent him from going dark?" asked Ladonna. "Because there is nothing wrong with being a Black Robe!"

"How do you think we should handle him, Justarius?" asked Par-Salian.

"He needs proper training, early, by someone actually capable of holding him to account. Theobald is adequate for the average trainee, but not for someone with real ability."

Dalamar cleared his throat: "He also needs to be kept away from bullies, as well as people who hate and fear him."

Ladonna snorted. "The latter will be hard if he stays in Ansalon."

"Why bullies?" asked Justarius. "Was he bullied back in Solace?"

"A sickly, undersized magic wielder who grew up in poverty and came to his Test after almost being burnt at the stake by a mob? What do you think?" said Dalamar.

Justarius winced.

"You have a child of your own, Justarius," said Par-Salian. "Would you consider taking him?"

"No!" said Justarius. "I do not want him around my daughter. Jenna is only four and has no understanding of such – absolutely not."

Par-Salian and Ladonna looked at each other, then both shook their heads. Then they looked at Dalamar. "Do you think you can handle him?" asked Par-Salian. "You know him better than the rest of us, both as he was and as he is now."

"I think I may have to," said Dalamar. "His brother is a drunk, and Theobald is an embarrassment to your order. Sending Raistlin back to Solace would not help anybody."

"Caramon seemed okay when I saw him, but that was some years ago," said Par-Salian.

"I spent some time watching him from afar over the past few days," said Dalamar. "He is a drunk and a slob, utterly unfit to raise a child."

"Before any final decisions are made, I wish to meet him. Bring him here," said Par-Salian. "We must also decide what to tell the world about what happened."

"About that, I think you should explain the child as Raistlin's bastard son rather than Raistlin himself, and Raistlin as dead in a spellcasting accident." said Dalamar.

Par-Salian raised his eyebrows.

"You really are protective of the kid," smirked Ladonna.

"Should I not be? As Raistlin, he will have most of Ansalon seeking his head on a pike for things he knows nothing about. As my former Shalafi, I owe him my protection. And I will _not_ allow such a brilliant mind to vanish from Krynn at the hands of some Solamnic Knight or Draconian."

"I think you have other reasons to want to raise him," said Ladonna. "Do the spectres recognise you as Master of the Tower?" She laughed, and Dalamar felt his cheeks flush. "They don't, do they?"

"Not entirely," Dalamar admitted. "They recognise that Raistlin isn't able be fully their master right now," after his hysterical reaction to first seeing one, "but there are some of his things I cannot touch or use, and the spectres sometimes make me check things with the kid before they'll do my bidding."

"Speaking of spectres, how do you plan on keeping Raistlin safe from himself in there? That Tower can't possibly be child-safe."

They got down to the business of sorting out just how to handle the situation, finally coming up with a solution that made Dalamar wonder just what he'd agreed to. A school/orphanage for incipient mages in trouble, located in Palanthas tower? Granted Par-Salian would organise funding and send a Red Robe to do much of the running of the thing, but still… how did he get himself into these situations, and why did Raistlin usually seem to be at the bottom of it somewhere?

* * *

A/N: 1) Dalamar is somewhat exaggerating the state Caramon is in at this time, but he saw him at a bad time and was utterly disgusted. I think Dalamar also plain dislikes slovenliness.

2) Daeg is an old-English rune that means day and looks like a sideways hourglass. It seemed like an appropriate rune to produce a time-related effect, as well as one that fits Raistlin. If you look at the thumbnail pic for this story, that's a badly-damaged daeg rune I painted, along with the offending mouse.

3) Randompasserby, glad you enjoyed it and thanks for letting me know. I'm glad he came across as a precocious child rather than a stupid one, or a miniature adult. That's the effect I am trying for, but I don't have a huge amount of experience with children to draw on when writing this.


	4. Raistlin's New Life

**Chapter 4 Raistlin's New Life**

Hearing Dalamar enter the kitchen, Raistlin looked up from directing the spectres making soup. "Hi Dalamar," he said. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Oh," said Dalamar. "Well done."

"You were taking a long time, so I thought I'd better start."

"What still needs doing?"

"Just a few herbs."

"Master cut his finger," announced a Spectre.

Raistlin glared at the spectre, which flinched visibly.

"It's only small." Raistlin held up the offending finger for inspection. It was, indeed, a very small cut.

Dalamar shrugged. Shortly thereafter, they had eaten and sat down on one of the couches in the adjoining living room. With a word and gesture, Dalamar lit the fire, much to Raistlin's interest. It was then that Dalamar brought up the massive changes that were about to turn young Raistlin's life on its ear – again.

"I was talking to the Heads of the Conclave about what happened to Raistlin Majere," said Dalamar. "and about you."

"Yes?" said Raistlin warily.

"We've decided to explain you as Raistlin Majere's son. This means you will have to change your name."

"Why? I don't want to change my name."

"It's for your own safety. My Shalafi made many enemies who would think nothing of harming or killing him, and your status as a child would not deter some of them. As Raistlin's son they would be much less likely to go out of their way to try to kill you, though make no mistake some will try if they run across you accidentally."

Raistlin looked at him wide-eyed. "Who?" he asked.

"Most of Takhisis' dragon armies. Evil dragons, draconians, and others. Also most of the armies of light dislike my Shalafi, so Knights of Solamnia, good dragons, elves and others."

Raistlin swallowed. "What about Caramon?" he asked. "He doesn't hate me, does he?"

"No, he doesn't," said Dalamar, realizing as he said it that he wasn't sure whether this was true anymore. "I don't hate you, and as Raistlin's child many fewer people will hate –"

"I want to see him. I know he'll be older and everything, but I still want to see him. Please?"

Dalamar pursed his lips. "If you're good, and once we've sorted this out."

"Thank you!" said Raistlin. The child moved as if he were about to hug Dalamar, but settled down again without doing so.

"You need a new name," continued Dalamar.

"If I have to change my name, I want to pick the new one." said Raistlin.

"I don't see why not," said Dalamar.

Raistlin cocked his head to one side. "Magius!" he said.

Dalamar winced. "Magius Majere sounds stupid," he objected.

Raistlin deflated. "I suppose so." He was quiet for about a minute. "Carin," he said. "If I had a son, that's what I'd pick, so it's in character and everything."

"I'm not sure that's going to work," said Dalamar. "Your cover story makes more sense if Raistlin didn't know about you until recently, otherwise Caramon would know about you and obviously he doesn't."

"Carin," said Raistlin stubbornly. "Besides, maybe I'm not Raistlin's son. For all most people know I could be Caramon's. They don't hate him as much as they hate adult-Raistlin, do they?"

Dalamar blinked in shock. "That is actually not a bad idea." _Half the people who actually know the twins will hear Carin and assume the father is Caramon and Raistlin stole the child when he spotted the kid's gifts. This has possibilities._

"We'll still claim you as Raistlin's child, but just leave the possibility of different parentage open to those who want to believe it. And you're right, Carin is the perfect name for that."

"Carin Majere," said Carin softly. "I can live with that."

* * *

Over the next few days, Dalamar began preparations for the long term, going through the lower levels of Palanthas tower and removing the most obviously unsuitable items. The ones that could be moved. Unfortunately, the Well of Seeing and its Live Ones wasn't portable. He would have to ward that very powerfully and leave where it was. Hopefully the young mages who would be living here would be sensible. Idiots were likely to end up removing themselves permanently from life.

Then there were lists of needed items and supplies… his to-do list just got longer and longer. He really needed to find some more suitable things for Carin. Dalamar also needed information. He didn't know much about elvish children, let alone human ones. Unfortunately, Dalamar was also willing to bet that whatever normal was, Carin wasn't it.

Together, they went on a shopping expedition into Palanthas. They walked along streets lined with vendors, Carin craning his head every which way in fascination, though he stuck close to Dalamar. It was obvious the boy had never been in a real city before.

He wasn't the only one fascinated, though. They were attracting a lot of looks themselves, of mingled fear and curiosity. Dalamar supposed they made an interesting picture – the tall elven Black Robe and the child in Raistlin's shrunk-down black robes. All gave them a wide berth, until they came to the newly-christened temple of Paladine.

A priestess with black hair and delicate features stared at them from the doorway before hurrying over. "Why have you put this child in Black Robes?" she demanded, grey eyes snapping fire.

"And you are?" said Dalamar.

"Crysania de Tarinius," she said haughtily. "Reverend Daughter of Paladine. And you?"

"Dalamar Nightson. This is my adopted child, Carin Majere. He is wearing Black Robes because I am his teacher and student mages take on the color of their teacher until they are ready to make their own decision as to which path they intend to follow."

"I see," said Crysania. "But surely you would not wish him to follow such a dark path, especially so young?"

"Why not?" said Dalamar, smiling entirely too sweetly. "It suits me fine."

"You shouldn't be allowed to corrupt innocent children," declared Crysania. "Come with me, child. This dark elf does not have your best interests at heart." She held out her hand to Raistlin.

Raistlin shot a panicky look at Dalamar.

"So because I adopted my Shalafi's orphaned child after he died, you hate my guts? You little hypocrite." said Dalamar venomously. He seized Carin's hand and marched him off, Carin looking awkwardly back at the priestess.

"Crysania, we need to talk," said a man's voice from inside the temple precincts. Dalamar slowed his steps slightly, but did not look back.

Student robes, books, empty notebooks, beginners' handbooks, underwear, shoes, a book on child development, a toy dragon… they were quite laden down by the time they went back to the tower.

* * *

Carin sat by the window late that night, thinking. Palanthas had been beautiful, but the encounter with the priestess had been disturbing. Dalamar was confusing. He'd never been anything but kind to Carin, bar the odd bit of sarcasm, but everyone they ran across seemed to hate and fear him. Then there were all the dangerous things in the tower: spectres, things with teeth, assorted other undead and who knew what else. Or in the rooms he wasn't allowed to enter. Just what was Dalamar hiding? Did Carin really dare trust him when there was so much he only had Dalamar's word for?

But it wasn't as if he could run away. He couldn't get past the Grove. More than that, if what Dalamar said was the truth, there was nowhere for him to go. He might as well stay here and learn what Dalamar had to teach. It would be more than Theobald could, that was for sure.

When he was grown, he'd be powerful enough he would need to fear no one. Carin smiled at the thought.


	5. Next of Kin

A/N: I finally managed to get my hands on a copy of The Soulforge, which I last read over a decade ago. This made me realize that the Raistlin in the last chapter is a bit too childish and not power-hungry enough at age 9 compared to the Raistlin in the Soulforge. I've rewritten Raistlin's lines in the last chapter to bring them more in line with the book. Please let you know what you think of the changes.

* * *

**Chapter 5 Next of Kin**

Dalamar steadied himself on his arrival on the porch of the Inn of the Last Home, preparing for the singularly unpleasant duty of informing Caramon Majere of his brother's demise. It was only mid-afternoon, so at least the man shouldn't be too drunk yet.

He opened the door and looked inside the common room. The place was still nearly empty, but he spotted Caramon seated not far from the bar. Caramon looked up as Dalamar approached. "Who are you, Dark Elf?" the big man demanded.

"Dalamar Nightson," Dalamar paused. "Your brother's apprentice."

Caramon's eyes widened. "You are? How is he? Do you have a message?"

"I am sorry," said Dalamar. "Your brother is dead." He held out an urn containing some human ashes that had been waiting to be spell components and some of the scorched powder left by the time spell.

Caramon gasped as if someone had punched him in the stomach. "What happened?" he asked as soon as he could speak. "Was he sick? Did you hurt him?" The big man stood up, glaring at Dalamar.

"Neither," said Dalamar. "He had a spellcasting accident. He was casting a very powerful spell-", Dalamar named a very powerful and dangerous spell that did not involve time travel, "and a mouse ran into the circle. "Everything exploded, and this was all that was left of him." Dalamar put the urn carefully on the table.

"A mouse," said Caramon. "My brother was killed by a mouse?" He half-sat, half-fell back down.

"In the worst possible place and time," said Dalamar, agreeing with Caramon's disgust. Of all the things to kill his Shalafi, a rodent was not something he'd ever anticipated.

"How did it get into the circle?" asked Caramon. "Wasn't the door warded?"

"There was a small crack between wall and floor behind one of the bookshelves. I only found it afterwards, when I went looking."

"Where were you when all of this was happening?" demanded Caramon.

"Watching and staying carefully out of the way," Dalamar admitted. He'd already decided to stay as close to the truth as he could – less likelihood for it to blow up in his face. "I tried to catch the mouse", he faltered, "but I wasn't fast enough. Raistlin was spellcasting, and I don't think he even knew what hit him."

"What happened to the mouse?"

"Dead," said Dalamar.

"Good," said Caramon. He rested his head on his hand, silent. His eyes were shiny.

After a few moments, Dalamar moved to the second subject. "He left a child."

"What?" said Caramon. "When, how? Why wasn't I told earlier?"

"His name is Carin Majere and he's nine years old."

"Carin…" Caramon trailed off, tears starting to fall. "He named his son after me?"

"He did," said Dalamar. "Or rather, the mother did."

"What's he like?" asked Caramon.

"Small," said Dalamar. "Skinny, with blue eyes and brown hair. Very smart and a bit manipulative, but vacillates between shy and argumentative."

"He sounds just like Raist at that age," said Caramon, sniffing uncomfortably. "When is he coming?"

Dalamar looked blank.

"Coming here," said Caramon. "If Raistlin's dead, Carin will need looking after."

"He can come to visit," said Dalamar, "but he won't be living with you. And he'll only be visiting if you can stay sober."

"I'm sober," said Caramon. "And who'll raise him if Tika and I don't? You?" The man looked Dalamar up and down and the look was anything but pleased.

"Yes," said Dalamar, "along with a Red-Robed teached the Conclave's sending to the Palanthas Tower. We're going to be starting up a Mage-school there, aimed at –"

Caramon cut him off. "I'm not having my nephew raised by a Dark Elf! What do you want with a child anyway?"

_Good question_, thought Dalamar. "He needs a proper education. Master Theobald is not adequate for a mage of Carin's potential."

"Raistlin managed."

"And that went so well. He was happy, never got bullied and didn't get bored out of his skull," snapped Dalamar.

"What's going on here?" called the red haired woman Caramon lived with. "Can I get you something, Sir?"

"No, I merely need to speak to Caramon for a few moments."

"Tika, Raist's got a kid. And Raist's dead!"

Tika stopped moving. "I think you'd better sit down," Tika said to Dalamar.

"I am about to leave," said Dalamar, "if your husband here would stop interrupting my every other sentence." He glared at them. "As I was saying, Carin can come to visit, but will not be living here."

"When?"

"How about a week from now?"

Caramon nodded.

"Just remember to be sober. The minute you aren't, he comes right back home with me."

After a few more minutes of arguing and the news that the Wizard's Conclave was on Dalamar's side, Caramon sighed. "Understood," he said.

The news about Raistlin's death and Carin's existence spread erratically across Krynn, in official news despatches and rumors alike, though Caramon and the Wizards were the only ones Dalamar bothered to officially inform.

In Qualinost, Tanis and Laurana sighed and shook their heads, not feeling terribly surprised their old comrade had come to a bad end. "Poor old Raistlin," said Tasselhoff in some little town in a far corner of Solamnia. "Though I suppose doing magic might be how he would have wanted to go. I wonder what death by misfiring spell feels like anyway?" On another plane, Flint grumbled because if Raistlin was dead he hadn't bothered to come say hello.

Carin's existence didn't get passed around as far, though it caused some confusion, especially as to who the mother was, and with regard to dates. Tanis in particular thought Carin was almost certainly Caramon's son. At 17-18 years old, Raistlin hadn't exactly been known for his way with the ladies.

The thing that caused most twittering among the Mages once they'd finished sighing in relief over Raistlin's demise was the new Mage School…


	6. Many Meetings

**Chapter 6: Many Meetings**

"Carin," called Dalamar from below. Carin swallowed, checking his appearance in the silver mirror one last time. He didn't want to meet the Head of the Wizard's Conclave with his hair a mess or something. "Coming!" yelled Carin and trotted out the door and down the stairs just as a spectre emerged from the wall to fetch him.

Dalamar looked him over sharply before picking off a couple of flecks of lint Carin had managed to miss. Carin twitched uncomfortably. "Now that you are ready, we must get moving," he said, taking Carin by the arm and teleporting the pair of them to Wayreth tower.

Carin steadied himself on arriving in Wayreth – and promptly threw up on the floor.

"Oh for the love of – "said Dalamar.

"I see you forgot to warn the boy about teleportation side-effects," said a man's voice.

Carin wiped his mouth as best he could and looked up at the speaker. A white-haired, white-robed old man looked back with a gentle smile. Runes gleamed golden on the hems of his Robes and Carin could feel an aura of powerful magic. Carin's heart fell. So much for making a good impression on Par-Salian.

Par-Salian chuckled and offered him a handkerchief. "Happened to me the first time too," he said. "It stops happening after you've done it a time or two."

"Thank you," said Carin, wiping his mouth.

Embarrassing emergency now over, Carin quickly found himself on a tour of Wayreth tower in the company of the Head of the Wizards' Conclave. It was fascinating! He'd dreamed of seeing the inside of Wayreth tower ever since he'd started attending mage school three years ago. And he could even compare it knowledgeably to Palanthas tower, which Par-Salian had never seen inside.

Beside them walked Dalamar, silent and watchful. Something about the whole thing made Carin uncomfortable, and he stopped talking.

"What's the matter?" asked Par-Salian.

Carin swallowed, but he really needed to know the answer. "Why does everybody hate Raistli- my father?" asked Carin. "What did he do?"

"That," said Par-Salian, "is a long story. Suffice it to say that he betrayed both sides for his own gain."

"He got away with it," said Dalamar. "I think that is the part that really frightened people."

"Why did he do it?" asked Carin.

"Power," said Par-Salian.

"He got into a situation where he wanted to stay alive and chose to do so by any means necessary, which involved accepting Takhisis' help," said Dalamar. "but he did not feel any real loyalty to Takhisis', and when the chance to lock her completely out of the world came, he took it. That left him the most powerful magical force on Krynn."

A passing White Robe gave the odd trio a startled look, but said nothing.

"As I said, power," said Par-Salian, his mouth settling into hard, bitter lines. "He always was too power-hungry for his own or anyone else's good."

Dalamar sent Carin a look Carin was fairly sure meant 'shut up, you've done enough damage already,' but Carin wasn't done yet. He had to know, and he couldn't trust Dalamar to tell him the truth.

"Will people really try to kill me for being related to him?"

"Of Takhisis' followers, some will, quite possibly."

"What about good people – like Solamnic Knights or good dragons?"

Par-Salian stopped. "I should certainly hope not. Dalamar, what have you been telling the child?"

"The truth," said Dalamar. "If _good_ people convince themselves that you are evil, they feel a license to do anything they please to you." Now Dalamar was the one with the bitterness in his face.

"Most would balk at killing a child," said Par-Salian.

"Perhaps," said Dalamar, "but not at kidnapping and forcible re-education by any means necessary." He turned to look down at Carin. "That's what that damn priestess would have done if she'd got her hands on you like she wanted, and you wouldn't have enjoyed it, believe me."

Par-Salian winced. "I'm sure she meant well…" he began.

"So did the Kingpriest," said Dalamar harshly.

Carin shrank back a bit. If the Head of the White Robes agreed he was in some danger from the side of good… then he really did have nowhere else to go. All he had was Dalamar. He'd better not make him angry. Time to shut up.

"But child," said Par-Salian. "You do not have to make Raistlin's choices. This is your life, and you get a choice what you do with it. No one can take that away from you."

Carin looked away without speaking. The silence hung heavy between them for the rest of the visit.

* * *

Carin was just as nervous about the upcoming trip to Caramon's, but in a totally different way. What would his brother, well uncle officially now, be like as an adult? Dalamar hadn't really told him much, but Carin did know the twins had gone adventuring together before Raistlin had left, and that Caramon was now married to a woman called Tika. The two didn't have any children of their own yet.

There was also the awkward fact that Caramon had been close to Raistlin, and was all too likely to spot inconsistencies in Carin's background simply because he knew too much. If Caramon was anything like Raistlin remembered, Caramon would probably blow the entire charade sky-high by accident if he knew. So Carin was going to be putting on a high-stakes performance as well as simply paying a visit to a time-changed relative.

They arrived at the Inn of the Last Home, and Carin was relieved that this time he did not throw up on arrival. He also thought he'd caught a bit of the patterns in the spell Dalamar wove and the way the magic twisted to get them to their destination. Honestly, he learned more from Dalamar when the elf wasn't trying to teach him something than from Theobald when the man was!

But all that flew out of his mind as he craned his head around, wondering where Caramon was.

Then he was abruptly hugged from behind. Carin stiffened, then realized what was going on. "Caramon?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm your uncle Caramon," said the man, releasing him so they could have a better look at each other. "You look so much like your father."

Carin was struck most by how enormous Caramon was, in every dimension. He looked like a bear in human form, and he'd be willing to bet his 'uncle' was as strong as a minotaur. Even Dalamar looked small and slight beside him. He must have dwarfed adult Raistlin. Carin couldn't imagine getting that big no matter how big a growth spurt he had in his teens.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you ever since Dalamar told me you existed," said Caramon, though his eyes seemed to be blinking back moisture. "Are you looking forward to staying with us for the next few days?"

"Yes, both father and Dalamar told me about you," said Carin.

"That's good!" said Caramon. "So you did at least get to meet Raist before… sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned that."

"I didn't know him well," said Carin. "He only found me a couple of weeks before the accident. You know him a lot better than I do."

"Yes, well, we are twins." Caramon took a breath. "Why don't you come back to the house? I've got a present waiting there for you."

The present, when they reached the little house at the foot of a giant Vallenwood tree, proved to be a real, live, white rabbit with floppy ears. "How did you know?" yelped Carin in delight that was mostly not feigned. "He's beautiful. Is it a girl or a boy?" Carin promptly moved to check. A girl.

"She's a girl, and she's all yours," said Caramon, grinning. "Raistlin had a pet rabbit when he was a child, and I thought you might like one."

"I do," said Carin softly. "I like her very much."

Dinner was a bit stilted and awkward, although Tika had done a wonderful job with the cooking. Nobody except Carin seemed quite sure what to do with Dalamar, and Dalamar showed no particular interest in speaking to either Caramon or Tika. There was only so much one could say about the food or the weather, after all. Dalamar headed back to Palanthas tower afterward, although warning Caramon sternly that he would be watching them and would come back and get Carin if all was not to his liking.

He needn't have bothered. Caramon proceeded to do his best to be the perfect uncle, even if he was sometimes overly rambunctious and enthusiastic for Carin's taste. The other inhabitants of Solace watched with somewhat jaundiced expressions, but no one did anything beyond a few derogatory comments when Caramon wasn't listening. There was some sort of strain between Caramon and Tika – she thought he drank too much, but they didn't discuss that in front of Carin and he was left guessing as to what was really going on. The biggest issue that affected him was Tika trying to feed him more than he could actually eat.

On the third day, Carin was disgusted to find he'd gotten ill.


	7. A Friend in Need

Now Carin was stuck in bed, too miserable to concentrate on his books or whatever story Caramon was trying to tell, and with no interest whatever in the soup Tika kept pushing on him. He did at least try to eat that because he knew he needed the fluids. Then he threw up. Alternately too hot and too cold, his chest hurt and simply breathing was a trial. He felt utterly vile.

That was when Dalamar turned up, obviously having been watching as he said he would. Carin would have felt touched if he had been able to muster up the energy. The dark elf asked Carin how he was feeling, "horrid," Carin answered, coughing, and Dalamar went off to talk to Caramon in the next room. The door was still open a crack, and their voices came through clearly.

"What is the matter with him?" Dalamar demanded of Caramon.

"Probably just a bad case of flu," said Caramon. "It's common at this time of year, and Carin's a bit on the sickly side to start with, isn't he?"

"Is it serious?" asked Dalamar. Carin could imagine the worried frown on the mage's face clearly, without needing to see it.

"You're not familiar with the flu?"

"Elves don't get the flu."

"Lucky elves," snorted Caramon. "Every human alive has had the flu, usually many times, by the time they're adult."

"Then it isn't too dangerous," said Dalamar.

"Normally, no," said Tika. "I'm a bit worried about Carin because he's too thin and seemed to have a bit of a cough even before this started. It has hit him very hard. Had he just gotten over a cold?"

"Is he usually like that, the way Raistlin was?" asked Caramon.

"He coughs sometimes, especially if there is dust, but it is not a problem. It is certainly nowhere near as bad as my Shalafi. I had thought it was fairly normal for human children to cough sometimes?" Dalamar's voice went up at the end, sounding a bit uncertain.

"Children do catch ill more than adults, but Carin doesn't look healthy, or act like it. He never plays with the other children."

Dalamar sighed. "He's had some problems with being bullied in the past, and I think he also finds other children dull."

"Raistlin all over again. You need someone who knows about human children to help you if you plan on raising him."

"For example, they need hugs," said Tika. "You came in and checked on him, but you didn't even touch him beyond checking for fever."

Dalamar winced a little internally. It was true, he didn't know much about human children. "It will be better once Mira arrives, and the students. She is human, at least."

Caramon snorted. "That's a start, but does she know anything about children?"

"She is the eldest of six children, and both Justarius and Par-Salian vouch for her."

"Is she a white robe?"

"Red."

"Why did she agree to teach children?"

"She says she likes it, but I can tell she wants access to the Palanthas tower library. In any case, she seems far more competent than that fool Theobald." He paused. "What can we expect from the flu?"

"If it is flu, he'll probably be sick for a week or two, but it's unlikely to get much worse than this unless there is some sort of complication."

"What else could it be?"

"Pneumonia, or maybe that brain infection thing there was one year. But the last is unlikely. If it gets any worse or doesn't improve in the next couple of days then we have trouble."

"What will you do if that happens?"

"Are you going to take him back to Palanthas?"

"Not in this state. It wouldn't be safe. He'll need to stay here until he is at least mostly recovered_." _Why could this not have waited until he was back in Palanthas? It would be easier to deal with there.

Carin turned away from the door. Hopefully it was just flu. Interesting to know that elves didn't get that. For once he agreed with his broth-uncle: lucky elves.

That night and the next came and went, and Carin was worse rather than better. Neither weird Meggin nor Dalamar's foul concoctions seemed to help for more than an hour or so. He couldn't breathe properly, and things slid into a blur. When the adults gathered in the next room to discuss what to do next, he didn't notice.

The discussion ended with Dalamar volunteering to scry Goldmoon, and bring her back here. Due to lack of equipment – Theobald didn't even have a decent silver bowl! - the scrying took longer than Dalamar would have liked and took twice the effort it should have.

* * *

Dalamar teleported into a tent, startling Goldmoon, who yelled and jumped backwards away from some implements she was washing. She grabbed her staff from where it leaned against the wall of the tent, holding it poised in front of her. Dalamar held up empty hands "I won't hurt you," he said, eying the staff warily. "I'm here because my child is deathly ill. He needs your help."

"Not another one," said Goldmoon, lowering the staff an inch or two. "There's more measles here than I can handle as it is. Where's the child? I can't leave my patients."

Dalamar briefly considered the possibility of abducting her, but between the blue crystal staff and the need for co-operation on her part in healing Carin it seemed like a bad idea.

That was when assorted men with weapons appeared at the tent flap. Dalamar kept a wary eye on them but continued speaking to Goldmoon. "I could get you there and back very quietly by teleporting. Unfortunately I cannot move Carin that way when he is this sick."

"Carin, as in Carin Majere?" she asked.

"Your kind aren't wanted here, dark elf," said a very tall barbarian at the door to the tent. "And if it is Raistlin's son you're fussing over, good riddance."

Goldmoon gave the man a disappointed look before turning back to Dalamar. "I'm sorry, but I really cannot leave the people here unattended to go and help one child. Why don't you ask Elistan for help? He's in Palanthas already."

"He can heal?" asked Dalamar. He hadn't known that!

"Yes," said Goldmoon. "and so can a couple of his new priests. I also suspect he isn't dealing with a major disease outbreak right now."

"In that case," said Dalamar, "I will be going then – if you will desist in pointing your weapons at me before I turn them into kindling?" The men at the door backed off, glowering.

Dalamar prepared the spell, and teleported.

* * *

He staggered slightly on arrival in Palanthas, and had to steady himself on a convenient wall. Too much teleporting and too little sleep – he really needed to reread the spell and rest. Someone screamed, obviously unused to Black Robes appearing from nowhere. Dalamar lifted his head and looked around. He'd landed right where he intended, just outside the entrance to the Temple of Paladine's grounds.

There was a rather nervous-looking novice priest standing by the gates looking at him. "Do you need assistance?" the man asked.

"No – yes, actually," said Dalamar. "I must speak with Elistan. I need a healer- a really good one, right now. My son is dying – he's just a child."

"Wait here. I will let him know. What is your name, and the name of the child?"

"I am Archmagus Dalamar Nightson, and the child is Carin Majere. He has pneumonia."

The man nodded and left, leaving Dalamar standing by the gates, wondering if this was going to work. He felt such a bleeding fool pleading with all these light side clerics for help that they might or might not deign to give him. He was tempted to just give up.

If he did, and Carin died, what then? The Tower ghosts would not like it at all if he came back without their master. They might deny him access, which would be unacceptable.

He grabbed his current spellbook out of his bag and leaned on the wall. A shock ran through him and he had the feeling of someone or something very powerful leaning over him and frowning. He flinched away from the wall. The feeling dissipated. Of course. He must have been more tired than he thought to try to do anything magical leaning on the wall of the Temple of Paladine. He knew better than that!

He moved a few feet away and sat cross-legged on the ground. Hopefully nobody would be so suicidally stupid as to trip over him.

Nobody was.

"Elistan says he will see you now," said the novice.

"Good," said Dalamar, getting up off the ground and putting his book away.

He followed the novice through the gates and across the neatly manicured temple grounds, ignoring that feeling of being watched. He met Elistan in a small, not-particularly-memorable room. Elistan was quite bony, a little like his Shalafi had been, but with a larger frame. He looked ill. With him was that obnoxious priestess he'd met earlier. Great.

"I understand your ward is very ill," said Elistan.

"Yes," said Dalamar. "He has pneumonia, and neither I nor available local physicians can cure it. He's not a strong child, and is all too likely to die of it if he does not get help in short order."

"Who's looking after him now?" asked Elistan.

"Caramon and Tika Majere," said Dalamar. "I asked Goldmoon for help but she said she is dealing with an epidemic of measles and refused to come."

"Yes, it is being a bad winter for disease so far. The damage from the war still haunts much of Ansalon."

"But there is no epidemic here."

"True. Where is your ward?"

"Solace. He was visiting his uncle. I can get you there by teleportation spell and have you back again by the same method." Dalamar carefully left out the fact that it might take him a while to bring them home again given the state he was in, and that teleporting tended to be hard on the unprepared.

Elistan and Crysania traded looks. "I'll go," said the priestess – Crysania, Dalamar finally remembered her name. "You will give your word to bring me back once I have healed the child?"

"Of course," Dalamar said. "You have my word that I will return you home safely once you have healed Carin."

"And you will return Crysania safely if she cannot save Carin," Elistan added.

"I will," said Dalamar.

"Then it is decided," stated Elistan.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, particularly RandomPasserby. It encourages me to know that someone is reading and enjoying this. I'm glad you like the changes to chapter four, and the chapters seen from Carin's viewpoint. There should be a higher proportion of the latter once I get out of this subplot in another chapter or so.


	8. Religious Philosophy

**Chapter Eight: Religious Philosophy**

They left in about an hour, Crysania having packed a small bag and Dalamar having renewed his teleportation spell and eaten a muffin.

* * *

They arrived right outside Caramon's house, Dalamar catching Crysania by one arm as she almost lost her balance. She righted herself and they went in.

"Where's Goldmoon?" asked Tika. "And who are you?"

"Crysania de Tarinius, reverend daughter of Paladine," said Crysania. "I'm here to help… Carin?" she looked Dalamar.

"Yes," said Dalamar. He turned to Tika. "Goldmoon has an epidemic of her own to contend with. So I went to Elistan. How is Carin?"

"A bit worse than when you left, but not much different. His breathing's pretty bad."

"Where is he?" asked Crysania, looking around the house's main room.

"In here," said Caramon from the door to the next room. They went in, Caramon letting go of Carin's hand and moving aside to give them some space.

Carin's eyes closed and breathing labored. His lips had a bluish tinge. "Carin?" Dalamar said, gently taking the boy's hand.

Carin opened his eyes, not really focussing on Dalamar. "I found a priestess with the gift of healing," Dalamar said. "She's here to help you, and don't worry about anything. And don't try and talk." Carin didn't, and his eyes closed again, but his hand wrapped itself around Dalamar's.

Crysania moved to the bedside and knelt down as she began to pray silently. Tika left the cramped little room. For some minutes there was no sound save their breathing. Gradually, Carin's breathing eased, but then he started coughing, eyes wild and obviously struggling for breath and clinging to Dalamar's hand. Dalamar glanced at Crysania, but she seemed unworried. Carin coughed up a lot of nasty, vile-smelling stuff, Dalamar staring at the mess in horror. But gradually Carin stopped, his eyes closing as he fell into a deep sleep, his breathing much easier.

Crysania stood up and moved aside, swaying slightly. Caramon reached out a hand and steadied her. "He'll sleep now," she said. "He'll probably cough quite a lot when he wakes. He still has to get rid of much of the mucus in his lungs." Dalamar watched as she went to sit down in the next room. Then he followed her. She looked deeply tired, as tired as he felt. He wondered if healing was as hard for a cleric as casting spells for a mage. Yet she'd just trusted a dark mage and gone to help his child.

He owed her, and so did Carin. "Thank you," said Dalamar. "I appreciate you coming to help like this. It cannot have been easy for you to trust a Black Robe to take you halfway across the continent."

"I trust in Paladine," said Crysania. "There was a child involved, and sometimes you have to take risks in order to get things done."

Dalamar nodded.

"Why do you follow Nuitari?" Chrysania asked, sounding genuinely curious. "You do not seem such a bad man as all that. You obviously care greatly for Carin and he's not even the same species as you."

"When Silvanost was threatened, all our best White Robes could do nothing. I prefer a response to darkness that actually works."

"Fighting fire with fire," Crysania nodded. "Yet if you fight fire with fire, all you will get is a bigger conflagration." She leaned forward. "If you become what you hate in order to win, just what is the point?"

Dalamar could see where this was going, but decided to answer honestly. "You make excellent points but for one thing: I do not hate what I am. I like power, and being an Archmage is a great improvement over being a member of House Servitor." Dalamar sneered at the memory. "Not everyone values goodness so highly as you."

Crysania sighed. "Ultimately, what you do is your choice. I have to ask about Carin, though. I worry for him, locked up in a tower filled with ghosts."

"He's hardly locked up there," protested Dalamar, "as witness the fact we're in Solace right now. Also, there will be a mage school there starting in the next few months, with a Red Robe as teacher and a White Robe assisting, so he will be exposed to plenty of other people and other ideas. I don't really care what color his Robes end up so long as he becomes the great mage he has the potential to be."

"Does he want to be a mage at all?" asked Crysania. "Have you asked him?"

"The magic wants him, whether he wills it or no. His gift is strong enough that he must either control it or it will control him. And he wants to be a mage. You should see his face light up when he sees some new spell or magical artifact he hasn't seen before. Asking him not to do magic would be like asking a hawk not to spread its wings and fly or a fish not to swim."

"I thought magic took years before it was possible even to cast your first spell."

"Yes," said Dalamar, "but a child with a strong gift is noticeable. As a mage, I find Carin hard to miss. The boy practically glows with magic, even if he cannot use it yet. Barring pneumonia or stupid accident, he will be a great mage."

"I see," said Crysania.

Tika spoke up: "I'm glad you aren't planning on forcing him into a Black Robe. Even so, you do have to be careful with children – they tend to copy what the adults they see do, and I'd imagine you'd be pretty charismatic to a child who wants to be a mage. Add in the boy's father, and your path is going to have a strong pull whether you intend it or not."

"I can't help that," said Dalamar. "After all, teenagers are equally notorious for doing the exact opposite of what their parents want them to!" Himself as role model for young mages. How very strange. He found he rather liked the idea.

"True."

Dalamar and Crysania stayed overnight at the Inn of the Last Home. Before Dalamar sent her home in the morning, she stopped off to see Carin.

* * *

Carin was resting comfortably when he heard someone enter. It was that priestess from the Palanthas temple again.

She sat down in the chair next to his bed. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better," said Carin. "Caramon said you healed me. Thank you."

"Paladine did, I was just the channel he used."

"Oh," said Carin. "Why did he want to help me?"

"Because you needed help."

Carin wondered if he was being unusually obtuse this morning, or if the answer was really that simple. "But I thought he hated Black Robes, especially my" Carin coughed and it was a little before he could continue. "My father."

"He does not like evil. But he also hates suffering, and he holds no one's parentage against them. You haven't done anything to make him hate you, have you?"

_Except lying about my identity and hiding that I am actually Raistlin Majere, who has done plenty of evil things I don't remember_, Carin thought. _But perhaps adult-Raistlin's deeds don't count._ In many ways adult-Raistlin felt more like the deceased father he supposedly was than like himself.

Carin realized he'd been silent too long and coughed. Unfortunately he then couldn't stop and it hurt. When he'd had a sip of water and could breathe normally again "I talk to the spectres and they like me," he said, picking something alarming enough to be believable as a major confession but innocuous enough not to make her run for cover. Unless she was a fanatic.

Crysania frowned. "I know little of such matters. But I do know about Paladine, and I think it safe to say he doesn't hate you." She glanced over at Dalamar, who was leaning on the doorframe, then turned back to Carin. "You should probably not speak much more, and I should really be going soon."

Carin nodded, but there was one more thing he had to ask: "Who was the old White-Robe with the beard?"

Crysania looked confused.

"No such person came in," said Dalamar.

"I saw him," Carin insisted. "He called me young one, and asked if I'd seen his hat."

* * *

A/N: Fighting fire with fire has always seemed like a really silly metaphor to me, since it won't put the fire out but will instead make it larger. If you want to put out a fire, use water or a fire extinguisher.

Crysania may seem to be being unusually reasonable here. This is because a) she's not infatuated with Dalamar like she was with Raistlin, and b) she isn't quite as overconfident yet as she will be by the time of Legends.

In case it isn't obvious, the religious opinions of the characters belong to them, not the author! I'm trying to keep everyone in character here.

And thank you to the several people who gave useful feedback. I generally reply individually if the person is signed in.


	9. Planning and Preparation

**Chapter 9: Planning and Preparation**

Carin spent the next week recuperating in Solace, then headed back to Palanthas with Dalamar and Crys the bunny. They ended up leaving the hutch behind, because it was just too much of a pain to carry when teleporting, and it wasn't as if they couldn't get another one there easily enough.

Carin found himself glad to see home again. That trip had been a bit too eventful.

* * *

Carin was watching from the top of the stairs when the teachers arrived, having just walked through the Shoikan grove. Both the Red Robe, Mira Sair, and the White Robe, Michael Uth Kenar, looked very pale and a bit shaky, Michael especially.

The novice's face wasn't far off matching his robes, making his freckles stand out sharply. He also had carrot-colored hair and was skinny and unco-ordinated. He looked barely older than some of the students were likely to be. Carin wondered how much use he would actually be in a classroom.

Mira was thirty-ish, small, and compact, with dark hair, eyes, and olive skin. There was something about her that seemed no-nonsense and practical. Carin suspected that she was far more competent than Master Theobald. Not that Dalamar would put up with her if she turned out to be a fool.

"Tea? Elven wine?" offered Dalamar. "and Carin, if you want to be here stop lurking and join us."

Face flaming, Carin did, trying to explain he "didn't want to intrude when you've just been through the grove." He should have realized Dalamar would spot him. Why was it he always managed to make a bad first impression when meeting wizards?

"Tea, please," croaked Michael.

"I'll take the elven wine, thank you," said Mira.

Dalamar poured and handed them the beverages. Carin received tea unasked for, while Dalamar took wine.

They all sat down in the comfortable room with assorted drinks in hand, and looked at each other. "That grove is… quite as bad as its reputation suggests," said Mira. "We're going to have to teleport the students . They can't possibly be expected to go through that."

"Agreed," said Dalamar. "Though remember they may throw up or faint when teleported." Carin turned his gaze to his tea cup in embarrassment.

"It is, however, important for their teachers to have experienced the Shoikan grove so that they understand the environment they will be operating in. The students cannot be allowed to get out of hand, or they may get themselves killed, children or not."

"Understood," said Mira.

"You'll understand better when I give you the tour of the tower," said Dalamar. "The grove is hardly the only dangerous thing here,"

They spoke for quite a while, during which Carin mostly sat quietly, sipped his tea, and observed them. Then they left on the tour. Carin went with them during the tour of the public areas, but remained behind when they headed upwards into territory off-limits to him.

* * *

It was now only two weeks until the students were supposed to start arriving, and things were happening fast. Dalamar, Mira Sair, and Michael Uth Kenar seemed to spend ages gesticulating, going over lists, and moving bunk beds and stacks of slates around.

Carin spent most of this time staying out of the way. He spent some time eavesdropping, but after a while it got boring, so he went back to his books. He might not have formal lessons right now, but there was always studying to do.

He had to admit, though, the conversation about getting groceries through the grove had been amusing. Charmed kender pushing handcarts, really? Michael must have a truly creative take on life to think up that one. Carin wondered what he and Mira would be like as teachers. In any case, he would soon find out.

Classes were to start three days after Spring Dawning festival.

But first he had a different trial to face. Dalamar had been invited to an exclusive and hard-to-decline party by Amothos, Lord of Palanthas, and the invitation included Carin. Sort of. He would be attending a semi-separate children's party for the children of the powerful. So now he was getting a crash course on manners and behaviour as pertaining to noble Palanthians, with emphasis on not offending by accident or otherwise making a fool of himself. Carin groaned, just thinking of all the social minutiae he was expected to know. He much preferred magic. He had a feeling of impending doom connected to that party.

* * *

A/N: Yes, the white bunny got renamed after Crysania. Blame her white robes and the fact she saved Carin's life.


	10. All in the Family

**Chapter 10: All in the Family**

Dalamar teleported the pair of them to the street outside Amothos' castle on the hill. The castle itself was beautiful, standing proud and tall in the white marble Palanthas was so well known for, bathed in the last rays of the setting sun. The lighting turned it to pale gold. So different from the Tower. They were expected, and the guards allowed them in without comment. A herald announced their names when they entered.

Carin couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed as they walked through the castle. It was enormous, filled with bustling people who looked like servants, and everything in it looked expensive, from the floor tiles to the lantern lights on the walls. This one dwelling was probably worth more than the entire town of Solace – a couple of times over.

Then the entered the party chamber itself. It was enormous, and full of people. Then the herald announced their names and it seemed like all these people were staring at them. Carin swallowed, wondering what they saw: a powerful dark elven archmagus, and beside him a sickly little human boy decked out in fancy robes he hadn't done anything to earn. Carin took a deep breath and followed Dalamar as Lord Amothos came to greet Dalamar but did not offer his hand. The two men exchanged polite nothings for a minute or so, then Amothos looked down at Carin. "What a cute little boy. This must be Archmagus Majere's son, then. What is your name, child?"

"Yes," Dalamar said, showing no expression.

Carin looked up, offended. What did Lord Amiable Idiot Amothos think he was, four? "My name is Carin Majere," he said clearly, looking Amothos in the eye. "I am pleased to meet you, Lord Amothos."

"And I you," said Amothos. "How do you like Palanthas? It is a beautiful place, is it not?"

"It is indeed. I had never seen a true city before I came here, so it came as something of a shock."

"Oh? Where are you from, child?"

"A tiny hamlet in the middle of nowhere. My father's family is from Solace, although I understand my grandmother was from Palanthas originally_." I have a name, you know it, and it isn't child. I am not a toy. Or a pet. _He kept a wary eye on Amothos' hands. Sometimes overly-friendly people like this would try to ruffle his hair.

"Really? How marvellous! What was her maiden name? You may even have some relatives here."

"Err… Aelan," said Carin.

"Aelan?! Is that so. I know one, Quivera de Julius. Her maidan name was Aelan." He smiled widely. "I know because she was quite persistant in trying to marry her oldest daughter to me."

Carin blinked. Of all the responses he had expected, that had not been one of them. His moth-grandmother had not been good at fending for herself and her children, but if she'd grown up with servants to do things for her… that actually explained a lot.

"I shall see if I can have them found for you before you head off to the children's party," said Amothos. He called a servant over and told him to find Quivera de Julius, returning to speaking to Dalamar and ignoring Carin.

A few minutes later, the servant returned with a middle-aged couple. One look told Carin the woman was related to Rosamun. She was small, with greying blond hair that framed a pale, delicate face with large blue eyes. Eyes not much different from those he saw every time he looked in a mirror.

"… this is your great-aunt, Quivera. Quivera, this is Carin Majere, your sister's grandson."

"Majere?" asked Quivera. "I thought his last name was Uth Matar."

"She remarried, after he disappeared." Carin explained. It took a lot more explaining for Quivera to understand that she had both the infamous Raistlin Majere and the even more infamous Kitiara Uth Matar as nephew and niece. Caramon the Hero of the Lance was apparently some consolation, but not enough of one.

"You mean to say that vile creature is my niece?" she demanded in horror.

Carin nodded. "I hope I never meet her," he added. "She sounds like she has turned into a monster."

"Yes, indeed. Raistlin too. I meant no offense," she added quickly when Carin frowned. He wondered irritably why had said something so obviously offensive if she hadn't intended to offend.

Dalamar, meanwhile, had drifted over to the buffet and helped himself, keeping one eye on Carin from a distance. He chose that moment to wander back and remind Carin that he was supposed to be in the children's section of the party. "My youngest is over there also," said Quivera. "I'll introduce you." They headed over to the next room.

Now Carin faced an ordeal of another kind: the children's party.

The children's party was in a smaller room, and was considerably less formal. Given that some of them were toddlers currently trying to build towers out of brightly colored blocks, this was just as well.

Quivera called her youngest over, who proved to be a blond girl named Sirera a couple of years older than Carin. She wearing an elaborate gown and a snooty expression, and looked decidedly askance at Carin's black robes and the explanation that he was her cousin once removed. She shook hands politely enough when asked, but Carin spotted her unobtrusively wiping her hand on her skirt as if she was afraid of catching magic cooties. Carin caught a sparkle of amusement in Dalamar's eyes as the dark mage abandoned Carin to his fate. Carin glowered at him, then put on a determinedly pleasant expression.

He might as well use the other children here as practice for dealing with the other mage students. It would be so nice if he could make the right impression when they arrived. He might even make a friend, not that he really expected it after Solace. Judging from prior experience and adult Raistlin's life, having friends did not seem to be his fate.

Though at least adult-Raistlin had had Dalamar and Caramon. That had to be worth something.

After a few attempts at social pleasantries though, Carin found himself standing alone by the buffet. The others kept shooting nervous glances at his clothing and whispering. Ruddy Solamnian fear of magic. Giving up, Carin turned away and helped himself to some of the food. It did look good, and he had been ordered repeatedly to eat more by everyone from Dalamar to Tika.

That is when a dark shape on the balcony caught his eye, before vanishing behind the curtain. Curious, Carin put his plate aside and went to investigate. There were muddy child-size boot prints – and Carin was suddenly grabbed from behind, a hand placed over his mouth. Shocked, Carin struggled, then bit his assailant's hand hard.

"Ow. Quit it!" yelped a soprano voice. "They can't know I'm here."

Carin quieted, his mind racing. Another child was hardly likely to be an assassin or kidnapper –

"It's a dare, see?" continued his assailant. "I'll let you go if you agree you won't yell," Carin nodded and the boy released him. Carin turned to see a well-built lad of about his own age with curly black hair and snapping dark eyes, wearing clothes that while nice enough, were not the sort of thing anyone invited to this party would be wearing, as well as being a bit muddy besides.

"Who are you?" Carin asked.

"Steel Brightblade," said the boy. "Are you really a Black Robe?"

"I'm a mage student," said Carin.

"I'm going to be a warrior when I grow up," said Steel.

"You have a weird name," said Carin. "Are you related to Sturm Brightblade?"

"Who is Sturm Brightblade?" asked Steel.

"A Solamnic knight. He and Laurana saved the High Clerist's Tower from the Blue Dragonarmies under High Dragonlord Kitiara Uth Matar, but he died doing it."

"I don't know," said Steel. He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know who my father was. Who are you, anyway?"

"Carin Majere," said Carin. The other boy seemed harmless enough, and now Carin knew he was there a yell would be heard immediately by the adults supervising the party. There was something familiar about him…

"The Hourglass mage's son?" said Steel. "Wicked! The others will be so jealous when I tell them I met you." He smiled, a lopsided smirk that stunned Carin because he'd seen it many times before.

"Kitiara," he breathed.

Steel froze. "If you tell anyone, I will bash your head in," he announced.

Carin shook his head. "I can see why you don't want anyone to know, cousin," he said. "And I bet you are Sturm's son. You sort of look like him, except for your hair. Everyone here thinks he's a hero. You should claim him as your father if they find out about - her. It would protect you." Steel regarded him carefully, but said nothing.

"What was your dare?" asked Carin as he tried to get his head around the fact that he had another cousin. All these family members suddenly exploding out of the woodwork! What would be next, a half-Irda sister?

"I just had to get in here, and I have to bring a napkin or something to prove it."

"I can get you one, but if you go in with mud on you someone will notice," said Carin.

"I have to go in to win the dare. It's a matter of honor."

Carin groaned. _Definitely Sturm's son._ "You'll get caught trespassing AND stealing. Why did you agree to such a stupid dare in the first place? You met and talked with someone at the party, and fought with him. You've even got the bite mark to prove it. Surely that's good enough?"

Steel looked thoughtful.

"They were obviously trying to get you into trouble. This is not a fair dare and you should have refused. I bet you didn't ask them to do anything half as hard or dangerous."

Steel nodded. "But I'm stronger and braver than they are, so I can do more."

"Yes, but be stronger and braver on your own terms. Don't let them manipulate you! Besides," said Carin. "You fought me and won, so I hereby give you this napkin in token of victory. That good enough?"

"Okay."

Carin went back into the party, picked up a napkin, and took it back out to Steel. It might technically be stealing, but it wasn't like Amothos would notice that one of his thousand-plus monogrammed napkins had gone missing. And sleight of hand made the minor theft terribly easy. "Ta da," said Carin, producing the napkin. "You really should get going before you get caught," said Carin.

Steel nodded. "Do you live here?"

"No, I live in the Tower with Dalamar. You can't get in there, and don't let anyone dare you because the Shoikan grove kills people. It doesn't care how brave and strong you are. Unless you have Dalamar's permission you won't get through it alive."

Steel's eyes widened. "Understood."

Steel scrambled back over the edge, clinging to the stonework on the way down. "Thanks," he called up from below.

"You're welcome," said Carin, and went back in to face rest of the night being stared at and asked odd nervous questions about whether he was really a wizard.

* * *

A/N:

With thanks to Artemis Greenbough , for reminding me that Steel Brightblade should have arrived in Palanthas recently and be around the same age as Carin or a year younger.

As for Rosamun, stories about her past vary, but in at least one she was a Palanthian noblewoman before she met Kitiara's father. In a different one, she was born in Solace and had a sister named Quivera. I combined the two stories, and gave the unmarried Quivera a family of her own.


	11. The School Opens

**Chapter 11: The School Opens**

The students began arriving in ones and twos the next day. Carin was in the courtyard when the first arrived, a boy of about thirteen. There was a faint flicker as Mira Sair teleported him in, and the boy went a bit green around the gills, but much to Carin's envy he didn't throw up. Mira looked over and spotted Carin. "Darin, this is Carin," she said. "Carin, Darin."

"Hello," said Carin. "Welcome to the Tower."

Darin nodded, still green. He soon turned a more normal colour, and Carin showed him around the parts of the Tower that were open to students.

By the time school was due to start, there was thirteen students including Carin – 7 boys and 6 girls ranging in age from seven year old Rika to 17 year old Alar, unless you counted Sirenthesa the elf. Carin was second youngest after Rika. All of them had some reason why they were here, the most common being parents killed in the War of the Lance.

Alar had run out of things the half-trained mage he'd been learning from could teach him, Rika's entire village had been wiped off the map, and Sirenthesa had been kicked out of Qualinost for attempting to use black magic. Not that the spell had worked, given her lack of experience, but it had been enough to have her exiled. Dalamar seemed unsure whether to be impressed by her ambition or aggravated at her stupidity.

Carin found it all rather sobering. So many young mages with major, major problems. It was sort of nice knowing he wasn't alone.

They mostly seemed a bit wary of him. Except Sirenthesa, who kept seeking him out. Carin suspected she was trying to curry favor with him in order to impress Dalamar, or possibly in case he turned out to be a powerful mage himself in the future. It was weird. It also made Dalamar smirk, and a couple of times snort with suppressed laughter.

There was also 11 year old Minar Vedan, who watched him with smouldering hatred in his eyes and barely spoke two words to him when Carin had helped show the new students around. Carin did not know why Minar hated him, but suspected that it involved adult-Raistlin somehow.

* * *

Before school started, Dalamar took Carin aside in the lounge:

"I haven't had much time to speak with you lately, but I think you should know my expectations of you before class starts. Academically I have little worries. We both know you have a brilliant mind, plenty of talent, and a capacity for hard work. You will be one of the youngest there, but I think you will find it far more to your liking than your previous school." Dalamar sneered, obviously not impressed in the least with Master Theobald.

Carin smiled at the praise, simultaneously delighted that Dalamar had such faith in him, and a bit worried that he'd be able to meet such high expectations. Obviously Raistlin had, but their histories were diverging rapidly, and what if Carin did something to mess it all up? Dalamar would probably desert him, and then where would he go?

"I know you've had problems with making friends and with being bullied," said Dalamar. "This is a fresh start; a new place with new people at least some of whom should have the brains to try to befriend you or ask for help with homework rather than bully you. I know you are not very gregarious, but I want you to try to get along with the others. You never know, you might even make a friend."

"I will try," Carin said, wondering even as he said it whether he'd ever manage it. The fact that Carin lived here with Dalamar as his guardian, his infamous last name and his separate quarters would set him apart. He'd never really fit in with the others no matter what he did.

"Even if you don't manage a true friendship," and now it looked like Dalamar thought he couldn't manage it, "remember that allies can come in very handy, whether the problem is bullying or you want to pick a fight with a deity."

Carin blinked at the last comment. Pick a fight with a deity? He wasn't that stupid.

"If you do have problems with a bully, tell an adult," said Dalamar. "I see no reason that you or any of the others should have to put up with the distraction. I am not Theobald, nor is Mira, nor Michael. All of us agree on this, and we won't think less of you if you ask for help."

Carin nodded hesitantly, inwardly resolving not to take up the offer outside of the most dire necessity. He had no desire to display weakness before someone he respected and whose respect he wanted to keep. Dalamar was probably just saying this because he thought he should – he didn't really mean it.

* * *

The evening before classes started, Dalamar called them all together to lay down the rules for living in the Tower. "I know most of you are terribly excited to be starting at a new school," Dalamar began. "You will find many things to your liking here. Your teachers are competent, the equipment works, and I have it on good authority that the food is much better than 'cabbage everything'," he smirked at Carin. Carin wished Dalamar hadn't seen fit to single him out, but couldn't help smiling slightly in return. After all, the food was better than cabbage everything.

"However," and Dalamar's voice became much harsher, "there are things that are expected of you in return. First of all, this is the Palanthas Tower of High Sorcery, also known as the Dark Tower. It is dangerous, and any areas that are off-limits are so for your own protection. Do not attempt to enter warded zones unless you wish to die horribly."

"Next, in exchange for the privilege of learning here, I expect you to work hard at your studies. I have been assured that all of you have the innate ability to excel. I expect you to do so. If you do not work, you will not remain here."

"There is to be no bullying or attempting to interfere with your classmates' studies. It is a waste of time and energy that you should be putting to better use, and will not be tolerated. As you can see," he gestured to his elegant robes, "I am a Black Robe. You _do not_ want to attract my ire."

He nodded to Mira Sair, who took over, giving details of class and meal times and exact rules as Dalamar swept out of the room. Carin noted them carefully, not wanting to break one due to ignorance.

* * *

The first class began the next morning, three days after the Spring Dawning Festival. Carin went into the classroom and sat down at a desk in the back left-hand corner. Rika sat next to him, Minar in the front-right, as far away as he could get. Darin, Tryosha, Wulfric and Larissa in the middle. The older students and novices were in the classroom next door, learning actual cantrips and elementary spells as well as more advanced theory. Fleetingly, Carin wished he were there, but he knew he wasn't ready.

Mira started by having Michael testing what they already knew – he'd ask a question, they'd write the answer on their slate, and Michael came around to see what they'd written and record who was getting all the answers right and who was getting them wrong. Meanwhile, Mira was in the other classroom with the older students.

The questions were quite varied, and while some were easy things Carin had learned in his first year under Theobald, others were difficult, and there were many he simply couldn't answer at all. His heart raced, and he reminded himself that he was one of the youngest here, so it wasn't surprising that he didn't know everything. That this was a good sign that he'd actually be getting a lot of learning done…

Unfortunately Rika panicked and burst into tears. Carin hesitated. "They just want to find out how much we know," he said quietly. "You're so young, they won't expect you to know most of this."

Rika looked at him and wiped her eyes. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"What's going on at the back?" asked Michael, having noticed them whispering.

Rika shrank back and said nothing.

Great. So much for not attracting everyone's attention in the first class. "I was just telling Rika that you wouldn't expect her to know most of this because she's only seven," said Carin.

"That's right. This test is to find out how much each of you knows so that we can know what you need to learn and what we can expect from each of you," said Michael. "In order to do that for all of you, we need both really easy questions and ones that the oldest among you will find difficult. Just do your best and don't worry when you hit things you don't know."

After about an hour of this, Mira switched places with Michael and they started into a review of pronunciation of the magical alphabet. That, Carin could handle.

After class was over, Carin remained in the classroom for a few minutes, going over the notes he'd made and making sure he hadn't missed anything important. Minar did much the same, to Carin's surprise. Carin got up and followed the others to lunch. Minar followed him.

Carin went and found an empty spot at the end of one table, and sat down to eat. There was an empty spot across from him, and Carin wondered if Minar would take it, seeing that he seemed determined to keep an eye on him. Carin wasn't sure what the boy wanted, but better to find out here, in public and with adults around, than alone later at some place of Minar's choosing.

Aggravatingly, Minar sat down several places away and spoke not a word all through lunch, though he persistently glanced at Carin, dark eyes glaring. What did the boy want from him?

The afternoon was more review, for the most part, and Carin found his mind starting to wander. He looked forward to starting something new.

Sitting alone in his room at night, Carin looked out the window and thought over his first day. So far so good, really. The situation with Minar wasn't resolved yet, but the work looked hard but doable and none of the other kids had done anything overtly nasty to him.

Carin yawned. He'd better get to bed.

* * *

A/N:The following info is taken from my reading of _The Soulforge_, and is what I'm basing Carin's character off of.

The twins' father was mostly absent as he worked very hard at wood cutting to support them, and his mother was mentally ill. The family was very poor. Kitiara ended up doing a lot of the caring for them, despite the fact that she was still a child herself at this point. She had little patience and a tendency to hit them when she got angry, although Antimodes noted that though the twins appeared neglected when he met them at age six, they did not have the air of beaten children. The twin's parents died when Raistlin and Caramon were 15. Meanwhile, their half-sister Kitiara ran away from home when they were six.

In a more modern society, they would likely have ended up in the fostercare system.

Theobald ran the boarding school Raistlin attended starting at age six. Theobald disliked and feared Raistlin right from the start, basically because Raistlin was overly-intelligent and a bit creepy. Theobald did nothing to deal with the bullying, which I'm not entirely sure he was aware of. Theobald didn't seem to have a good handle on what was going on in the school under his nose.

As for the bullying, Raistlin seems to have been persistently either picked on or shunned by the others. He also had no friends there. Being the person whom everyone ostracizes is a significantly different situation from trying to deal with a single bully when you have friends there. Coming from that background, Raistlin's cynicism and lack of trust towards the rest of humanity shouldn't be a surprise.

Caramon loves his brother, but he's a child too and doesn't have the power to fix Raistlin's problems. And of course, many of Raistlin's family problems apply to Caramon!

As for the differences, that is rather interesting. There's the obvious differences in health, strength and magic, and they had some major impacts. When the twins were born, Raistlin was born breech, and his birth seriously harmed their mother. He was weak and sickly, and the midwife suggested they expose him and let him die. His mother agreed to this.

Kitiara saved him. She liked to boast about it, and Raistlin grew up hearing the story. Kitiara had little respect for those she considers weak, and made no bones about the fact she wanted to leave but was worried about Raistlin because she considers him weak. Then she runs away when he's six. What a way to make someone feel wanted and safe in their family!

I bet this has a lot to do with Raistlin's obsession with power – he never feels safe unless he's in a position of relative power, and his search for power keeps making him ever more powerful enemies… like Takhisis. Without something breaking this cycle, he's bound to destroy himself, as of course he ended up doing. Unfortunately the amount of power he had by that point meant he did a lot of damage to others as well as himself, and nearly did far worse still.

There's the fact that his mother's mental illness is related to having untrained magic and Raistlin is afraid of ending up like her, and people's fear of magic and lack of respect for intelligence where Caramon's strength gets him easy acceptance and understanding… even with these differences, Caramon's not the most functional either, as shown by his alcoholism during _Legends_. All three children have serious issues.

Raistlin doesn't trust anyone to both have his best interests at heart and be able to help him, and in this chapter it is showing.

Anyway, this rather rambling author's note is trying to explain just why I'm writing this the way I am. I find Raistlin a very interesting character, and my hat is off to Margaret Weiss for inventing him.

Unfortunately I find him hard to write because I keep wanting him to overcome his flaws and pick a less destructive path and he keeps twisting away from canon in my mind. At least with Carin the altered circumstances give me a good excuse for this.


	12. Open Mouth, Insert Foot

**Chapter 12 Open Mouth, Insert Foot**

Minar continued to watch Carin, but did not act beyond that. It got on Carin's nerves, but there wasn't really much to be done. Let him watch if it pleased him. Besides, what could Carin do about it anyway, tell Dalamar 'he's looking at me in a funny way, make him stop?' That wasn't going to happen.

After the first couple of days, Dalamar turned up at Carin's rooms, formerly Raistlin's apartment. Carin let him in. "How are you finding school so far?" Dalamar asked.

"It is good," said Carin. "We are starting to get into things that are new to me – they've split the class into groups based on skill level, so Rika and Wulfric aren't doing the same thing." Much like Theobald tried to do on an ambitious day, only more effectively.

"Good," said Dalamar. "And the people?"

"Michael is quite good but tries too hard to be amusing, while Mira is very practical and forthright. They are good teachers," said Carin.

"Good. And the other students?"

"They are ok," said Carin. He thought fleetingly of asking what was wrong with Minar, but squashed the idea. He could handle that situation himself.

"Mira says that you have befriended Rika," said Dalamar. "If you are trying to make people see you as not-evil, then being kind to a little girl is not a bad way to start."

"That… she keeps following me around," said Carin. "I don't really know what to do with her."

Dalamar snorted. "It sounds like she sees you as a protector."

"She'd do better to pick Wulfric. All I really have right now is my connection to you – I cannot do magic yet and I am the second-smallest child here after her."

"Which probably makes you less intimidating."

"True," said Carin. "Though I don't see that it makes me very effective."

"True enough. Are any of the others giving you problems? No bullies throwing their weight around?"

Carin shook his head. "It is all surprisingly civilized so far."

They talked for a couple more minutes, and then Dalamar let himself out.

* * *

The rest of the week went well, and the next, with the constant irritant of Minar's watchful gaze. Rika backed off a bit, having apparently decided that Carin's tendency to have his head constantly in a book was boring, and Larissa was much better for playing pickup ball games in the courtyard with.

After dinner one evening Carin was sitting reading in the large sitting room where a few of the kids were playing board games. Not work this time, just a history of the Three Orders participation in the previous-but-one war against Takhisis .

"Enjoying other people's misfortunes?" demanded Minar, sitting down in the next chair-but-one.

Carin blinked at him. "Why do you keep following me?" Carin demanded in return.

"You know perfectly well," said Minar, jumping up and storming out of the room.

"Actually I don't," Carin called after him. "Did my father do something that you're mad about?"

Minar didn't reply, though Carin could hear him storming away in the opposite direction.

Well, that wasn't very informative. Though he assumed that it was to do with Raistlin. Carin hadn't done anything to him, after all.

He went to pick up his book, but noticed that Larissa and Darin were staring at him. "What?" he asked.

"His father died in the war," said Darin.

"So did a lot of people's," said Carin. "Like Rika's. Yet she doesn't act like I'm going to murder every person in the Tower if she takes her eyes off me for one moment."

"His father was a Black Robe."

"Yes? So's Dalamar." said Carin irritably, then frowned. "How did his father die?" he asked more slowly.

"I don't know, but at the least I assume he's mad at your father for double-crossing the cause his father died for." said Darin.

"Raistlin betrayed both sides during the war. I doubt it was personal."

"E-M-P-A-T-H-Y, Carin. You might try it some day." said Larissa. "Come on, Darin, let's go play somewhere else." They left the room, leaving their board game unfinished.

Not sure what to do, Carin picked up his book again, but found he'd lost all interest. He had a nasty feeling that things were about to get a lot worse from here on in.

Carin was right. As of breakfast, no one was speaking to him beyond "pass the salt". Even Rika looked away when he looked at her. And it continued all day. No one bullied him, no one did anything to him. They just weren't speaking to him, that's all.

He could have left it at that; they would probably have gotten over it in a few days and it wasn't as if he needed their approval or their begrudged friendship. But he knew Dalamar would not be pleased, and the situation still nagged at him… just why was Minar so angry? Surely there was something beyond Raistlin's double cross of the entire continent going on for him to hate Carin that much before they'd even met.

The obvious course was to apologize to Minar, though Carin still felt he didn't have much to apologize for. He really needed to know what had happened to Minar's father, but he didn't fancy asking him. The boy was both itching for vengeance and a lot bigger than Carin. Maybe Mira would know.

He didn't see her, so he asked Michael. "Michael, do you know what happened to Minar's father?"

"He died in the war," said Michael. "Why?"

"Just wondering," said Carin. "How many mages died in the war?"

"Too many," said Michael. "What brought this on?"

"I'm always curious about most things," said Carin.

Michael gave him a long look. "Has he been bothering you?"

"No," said Carin quickly. "But I am wondering how much damage the war did to the three Orders. It seems like half of us here lost parents to the war."

Michael leaned back against the door, which moved backwards. The young man stumbled, then steadied himself on the doorframe instead. "At the higher levels, not much damage. Most of the highest-ranking wizards weren't directly involved, so they were fine. We lost a lot of those based away from Wayreth, though, especially Black Robes."

"Because they were on the losing side?"

"Yes – well, they fought on both sides. It's likely because a higher percentage of Black Robes fought in the war. They tend to be drawn to warfare."

Carin nodded. Greater willingness to use violence to achieve power, yes, he could believe that.

"We'll recover from the war though, never fear. It could have been so much worse. Imagine if Takhisis had gotten loose on Krynn, or if her bid to destroy the gods of Magic had succeeded. We have your father to thank for that at least."

"Takhisis tried to destroy the gods of magic?" Carin squeaked in horror. No flaming wonder Raistlin had turned on her!

"Yes, and sent Lord Soth and his Death Knights to murder everyone at Wayreth Tower while we were powerless. Mira and I would both be dead if Raistlin hadn't brought the dragon."

Carin nodded. That was something a lot of people preferred to ignore. It was nice to know Raistlin had accomplished something that hadn't gone up in smoke with the accident. Along with reopening Palanthas Tower. That was important too.

But it still didn't tell him what was wrong with Minar!


	13. Explosion, with Fallout

**Chapter 13: Explosion, with Fallout**

The most obvious thing to do was apologize for offending Minar and explain he hadn't known Minar's parents died in the war. Carin couldn't honestly apologize for Raistlin's betrayal of Takhisis when he thoroughly approved of it, and Minar would likely figure out eventually he wasn't sorry and get even angrier. But he could apologize for being insensitive about his parents' deaths.

So immediately after class ended before lunch, Carin went over to Minar's desk. Minar frowned at him. Carin took a deep breath and said "I'm sorry that your parents died in the war. I didn't know when -."

"Died in the war?" Minar jumped up and leaned forward into Carin's face. "How dare you! Your father killed my mother!"

Carin's mind ground to a halt and he stepped backwards. "What?" he said. "How? Why?"

"Don't tell me you don't know! I bet he boasted about it, didn't he, before that mouse got him."

"Well, I DIDN'T know," muttered Carin, then raising his voice. "And if Raistlin didn't betray Takhisis, then we wouldn't be here right now because there would be no magic to power spells. Takhisis betrayed-"

Minar lunged at Carin, who tried to dodge and tripped over a chair leg. He fell, hitting his head on another desk on the way down. Dimly he heard someone yelling "Stop!" and Minar landed on him and punched him, knocking the breath out of him all over again.

Then there was a lot of screaming and a feeling of bitter cold. Carin got his eyes properly open to find the Tower ghosts everywhere. There were two right in front of him. "Master Majere, are you injured?" asked one.

The other was menacing Minar. "Do you want me to kill him?" asked the spectre.

For a second Carin was tempted. No one would ever dare threaten him again! Then he came to his senses, and wheezed "Don't hurt him. Just make him get off of me."

Minar scrambled off of Carin, his face chalk white.

Then Dalamar materialized in the middle of the room. "Just what is going on here?" he demanded.

"This child," the spectre pointed a bony claw at Minar , "attacked Master Majere."

An ugly look crossed Dalamar's face. "I'll deal with you later," he breathed. "Carin are you – you're bleeding. How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, kneeling down and peering at Carin's eyes.

"Four," said Carin shakily, sitting up and feeling the back of his head. It was bleeding.

Michael and Mira entered.

"I have the situation under control," stated Dalamar.

"What happened?" asked Mira.

"Why don't you ask that sorry fool while I deal with Carin?" said Dalamar, gesturing at Minar.

"I will," said Mira. "Minar, come with me." She beckoned the boy into the next room. One of the ghosts followed them, still glaring daggers at Minar.

"What happened?" Dalamar demanded, as Carin got up off the floor and sat in one of the chairs. Michael had brought a wet towel, which he used on Carin's head. Carin looked at Dalamar with some surprise. He'd never gotten a reaction like this any time he'd been bullied back in Solace. Well, not unless you counted Caramon, who didn't ask what happened so much as assumed the obvious and punched it.

"It… I didn't know Raistlin killed his mother," said Carin.

Dalamar blinked. "Did he," he said.

"That's what Minar said when I tried to apologize."

"What were you apologizing for?" asked Dalamar.

"Is this why you were asking me about Minar's parents yesterday?" asked Michael.

"He'd been acting peculiar and following me around ever since he came, and then a few days ago I was reading a book about Magius and that war with Takhisis and he exploded at me. We got into a brief argument and he stormed out of the room..." With a bit of prodding, Carin explained the rest of what had happened leading up to Minar attacking him.

* * *

Some fifteen minutes later, Dalamar left the ghosts to keep an eye on Carin and went to deal with Minar.

His mood was ugly. He had hoped he'd made it clear that no bullying was to happen, but apparently not clear enough to prevent Carin being attacked for something he'd known nothing about and had no control over. Minar should have told them Raistlin had killed his mother, assuming such had in fact occurred, if he was going to attack another child over it. And the fool of a Majere had not told anyone what was going on until the situation exploded. Carin was lucky nothing worse had happened. They would be having a talk about THAT later, once he'd dealt with Minar.

Dalamar opened the door and glared in.

Minar was seated on a couch, with Mira at the other end. Minar's eyes were reddened and puffy, and he had obviously been crying. Mira looked more tired and disappointed than anything else.

"How is Carin?" asked Mira.

"He'll be fine," said Dalamar. "Doesn't look like more than a messy cut and a bit of headache."

"So, what do you have to say for yourself, Minar?" asked Dalamar, glaring down his nose at the boy, who shrank away.

"Archmage," said Mira formally, "I'd like to talk to you privately for a minute."

"Certainly," said Dalamar. "You," he gestured at the ghost, "make sure this boy doesn't go anywhere."

The ghost cackled slightly. "Yes, Master Dalamar." Minar shivered.

"Don't hurt him," added Mira.

The two mages went into the kitchen, where a couple of spectres were doing the dishes. "You aren't impartial on this one, Dalamar. I think you need to step back and let Michael and I deal with it."

Dalamar frowned. "The boy is a danger to the other students, and he physically attacked and injured one of them over a grudge. You expect me to just let that go?"

"No. I'm hoping that you'll let someone else decide on and carry out punishment because you are too involved in the situation. I can see how angry you are, but you have to remember that you are dealing with children, not adults. Sometimes kids get out of hand, and yes, they need punishment but that doesn't mean getting," she gestured irritably, "fed to the Live Ones or anything. And if you over-punish Minar, Carin is going to find it impossible to integrate with the others because they will see it as being his fault. The death threats from the spectres are quite enough in that direction."

Dalamar pursed his lips. "You may have a point," he conceded. "But we should agree on punishment, and first we need to make sure we've been told the same story of what happened." They compared notes. The stories largely agreed, which at least showed that Minar wasn't trying to lie his way out of the situation. And Mira was right that fear of the spectres would probably keep Minar from trying to harm Carin again.

As for Minar, it sounded like the boy had been ready to explode since he'd first arrived. Dalamar could understand hiding the whole 'Raistlin killed my mother when she and the other clerics of Takhisis tried to prevent him and Caramon escaping' thing. He probably thought he'd never get into the school if he mentioned it, and with both parents dead fighting for the losing side he must have been afraid of ending up on the street. Then dealing with Carin every day while hiding his anger grew to just be too much…

It could have been worse. At least nobody had been seriously injured, and the matter was out in the open now. And he knew that the ghosts would protect Carin.

* * *

That evening, Carin found himself back in the classroom room with Minar, this time supervised by adults, as well as a spectre lurking in a corner. "I'm sorry for attacking you," Minar said, still looking a bit sullen but without prompting. "I assumed you knew what Raistlin did and were mocking me, the way you kept eyeing me all the time."

"Of course I was watching you. You kept following me and glaring at me all the time and I didn't know why."

"Oh," said Minar.

"I am sorry that you lost your mother, though."

Minar nodded, but didn't say anything further.

After Minar left the room, Carin got that talk with Dalamar. His guardian was not pleased with him.

"Carin, when I tell you to do something, I expect you to obey me. That includes telling an adult if you think you are in danger from another student. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I thought I could handle the situation myself."

"Carin, you are not in Solace anymore. You are going to run into people who want to kill you, not just embarrass you or get in a punch or two. You are nine, and you can't handle that on your own. You also don't have to. That's what adults are for."

Carin swallowed. It wasn't as if adults had ever been a whole heap of use in the past, especially because even if they wanted to help they couldn't be everywhere and see everything and the bullies were twice as vicious if they thought you were a tattle tale. Dalamar was right that he was running into greater dangers now, though. Raistlin's shadow hung over everything.

"Carin, look at me." Carin looked up at him. "I may not be the ideal parent, but I'd like to think I can at least protect my child." Said Dalamar.

"I'm sorry Dalamar. I just didn't want you to think badly of me."

Dalamar looked truly baffled for a moment. "Why would I think badly of you? I already know you have a history of trouble with bullies, you're physically weak even if you're mentally anything but, and you're nine for crying out loud. An elf that age would be barely out of diapers, not studying magic."

Carin blinked, imagining a tiny Dalamar determinedly attempting to print wobbly letters and getting ink all over himself.

"Just ask for help before it gets to the point where someone is punching you in the face," said Dalamar. "Remember the ghosts in an emergency. Though be careful with the ghosts - they take instructions literally and have no ethical boundaries. If you had ordered that ghost to kill Minar it would have done so without question."

Carin nodded. He'd been trying not to think too hard about that part. "It asked me if I wanted it to kill him. I told it no, but to make him get off of me."

Dalamar nodded. "If I were a White Robe I'd probably lecture you about how with great power comes great responsibility." Dalamar shrugged. "I tend to think it comes with consequences. If you had ordered the ghost to kill Minar, you would never have to fear being bullied in the castle again." Dalamar paused. "But you would also have permanently alienated every student in the castle plus both school teachers and locked yourself into the path of a Black Robe."


	14. A Fateful Meeting

**Chapter 14: A Fateful Meeting**

The situation calmed down over the next week or so. Minar stayed on at the tower, though he got stuck with detentions twice a week for the next two months that were at least partly counselling sessions. The other kids stopped ignoring Carin, although Wulfric in particular appeared nervous around him, probably because of the ghosts.

* * *

As the years passed, the school and students settled in, becoming a fixture of the City of Palanthas. Carin's memories of Raistlin's childhood in Solace receded, and for all intents and purposes he really was Carin Majere, son of Raistlin Majere and adopted son of Dalamar Nightson. Carin studied hard, and freed from the worst of the bullying Raistlin experienced in Solace and with better teaching, Carin flourished.

That didn't mean he wasn't nervous when Mira called Larissa, Minar and him in to write 'I Magus', four years later, though. What if, after all the hard work and training, he couldn't do it? It seemed unlikely, but maybe all three of the gods of magic would be angry enough to reject him. And he was NOT about to ask Takhisis for help.

Carin ignored the other two and focussed on the paper in front of him. "I, Magus," he wrote carefully, trying not to let his hands shake. Nothing happened, and his heart skipped a beat. Then he remembered he needed to say the words. He did, and the paper caught fire and he wasn't in the room at all.

* * *

There were three people, standing in each of three globes. They weren't hard to recognise: The young war-wizard in white was Solinari, the black robed one with the dragon orb was Nuitari, and in between them the woman in red with the book was Lunitari.

He looked at them.

They looked at him.

"I take it you don't remember me," said Lunitari.

"No," said Carin, "I have no memory of anything from Raistlin's life beyond the age of nine."

"A pity," she said.

"Hardly," snorted Nuitari. "So what do you intend to do with your gifts, should we help you?"

"I…" of all the things he'd expected to happen when he'd written the testing spell, getting grilled on his future plans by all three of the gods of magic had not been on the list.

"I want to help those who need it and who everyone else ignores," Carin said firmly, feeling a little silly but remembering the horrible situations so many of his classmates had come from. He wasn't entirely sure about it yet, but it was the best he could come up with.

"I think this one's yours, Solinari," said Nuitari.

Solinari's eyebrows went up. "That's a fine ambition," he said. "But do you actually mean it? It won't make you popular with the powerful of Krynn, and it won't grant you much power either."

"Someone has to do it," said Carin.

"True," he said. "You need to work on your tact if you're to be as effective as possible, though."

"I know," said Carin. "Unfortunately I am bad at that." _And I have seen too much emphasis on politeness and social conformity among the Good, and not enough on doing what is right_.

"And the lack of power over others?" queried Nuitari. "You can't expect us to believe that you no longer want it. You were obsessed with it before."

"I don't think of myself as Raistlin. I don't want to be him. Raistlin had an enormous amount of power, but I do not think it made him happy. So long as I have enough to protect myself and others, that ought to be enough for anybody." Carin thought longingly of Raistlin and Dalamar's books that he hadn't even dared try to read, and firmly pushed the thought away.

Lunitari smirked. "I think you have a gadfly, cousin," she said. "It will be good for you. You've been getting stuffy in the last hundred years."

Solinari looked down his nose at her and sighed. "Possibly." He looked back at Carin. "It seems we are stuck with one another, then." His face darkened. "But do not betray me as you did before or I will not power any spell of yours ever again, is that understood?"

"I understand," said Carin.

Solinari looked at him with a smile that had sadness lurking in the corners. "I'm not so sure you do, or that you can hold to this path. But I am glad you have chosen to try."

* * *

Then he was back in the room, feeling so dizzy he feared he'd fall off his stool. He laid his head on the table, cold stone and warm… ashes? He opened his eyes again. There was nothing left of the parchment he'd written the spell on but ash.

"That… is it supposed to do that?" said Larissa.

"That happens occasionally, but it isn't common," said Mira. "Yours is glowing, Larissa. Nice work. You too, Minar. Well done, and congratulations, all of you. You are now officially novice mages."

Carin sat up slowly, brushing the ash from his face. The other two looked at Carin, before filing from the room, faces reflecting awed excitement.

"What did you see?" Mira asked him.

"I saw… the gods of Magic," said Carin. He blinked a few times. "I need to go find white robes," he said.

"That can be dealt with, I'm sure," said Mira. "I think you should stay sitting down a minute or so first, though. Magic can be very draining, as I think you're finding out."

Carin nodded.

"What is Solinari like?" she asked. "I've never met him."

"Nice enough, straightforward, but a bit stern and straightlaced," said Carin. "Lunitari kept teasing him, and I think Nuitari doesn't like me much."

* * *

A/N: Carin has had his face rubbed in the consequences of Raistlin's choices since he was nine, so he's had a lot of reason to think about these issues at a very early age.

With regards to his age here, he's had better teaching with fewer distractions so I think he's probably learning a bit faster at this point. That doesn't mean this will always be the case. For good and ill, there is no Fistandantilus for him to make bargains with.

Nontacitare: I'm glad you enjoyed tiny Dalamar, and the mages' attempts to make Raistlin be less of a loose cannon. I'm not sure they're really aiming for kinder, just for less dangerous to themselves and the world at large. They might get something very interesting though, if Carin's compassion can balance out his desire for power and fascination with esoteric knowledge.


	15. Kicked Out

Carin was 19 when Dalamar called him into his office for a talk.

Carin sat down, wondering what this was about – nothing especially unusual had happened that he knew of. The students hadn't gotten up to any particularly spectacular pranks, and the latest spell he had added to his book might be more powerful than average, but it was still perfectly legal for a novice mage.

"You need to leave the tower for a while," said Dalamar bluntly.

"Oh." said Carin, feeling shocked. "Is there a specific reason?"

"Yes," said Dalamar. "You're doing very well in your studies. Too well."

_Oh, that._ "I've been keeping well clear of anything illegal for novices," said Carin.

"You're being watched, and not all of the eyes are friendly. The spells may be acceptable but you have a lot of them, and there are those who think you should be tested now. You are not ready. You don't have the life experience or the self-knowledge needed because you aren't old enough and you've spent most of your life sheltered behind Tower walls. You need to get out and do something other than spend all day living and breathing magic for the next year or two."

"I see," said Carin. He did see, too. The prospect was both overwhelming and intriguing. After all, if he really wanted to do as he'd said to Solinari years ago, he could hardly do so from behind Tower walls. But it was also true that he had no idea where to start, and a year was an awfully long time to be away from home.

Unless… Solace perhaps? Uncle Caramon would undoubtedly be happy to see him and there would likely be useful things he could do in Solace or Haven. There was always the rest of Palanthas, but they had more mages than they needed already.

"What you do is up to you, but you might try starting off in Solace." Said Dalamar.

"That was my first thought, too."

"Think it over for the next couple of days. I'll teleport you where you want to go, but you'll have to find your own way back. You aren't nine anymore, so I won't be watching to bail you out of every little scrape. Be careful where you stick your overly-curious nose or it may get bitten off."

* * *

Carin spent the next two days thinking it over, but Solace still seemed the best place to start. It was the only place other than Palanthas where he'd spent much time. He collected together everything he thought he'd need, then realized that he had way too much to carry if he was going to do any travelling. He'd have to leave some of it behind… probably some of the books. After all, he was supposed not to be studying madly.

It took several tries and a talk with Michael, now the Tower's school master, to sort what was actually likely to be useful from things that would only get in the way, but two days later he had said goodbye to the students and the other novices and was standing outside Dalamar's office.

"You are ready, then?" asked Dalamar, running a critical eye over him.

"As much as I'm going to be," said Carin.

"Good," said Dalamar. "Where are you headed?"

"Solace," said Carin. It still seemed the best place to start.

"I will see you in a year or so then," said Dalamar. "Don't do anything suicidally brave and stupid. I'd hate to have wasted all the years I've put into raising you."

"I'll try and avoid it," said Carin.

Dalamar raised his eyebrows. "You'd better do more than try." Then he teleported Carin.

* * *

Dalamar looked at the place where the boy – no, young man, Dalamar reminded himself, had stood and shook his head. Human children grew up so fast. Hard to believe Carin had been a little boy afraid of ghosts and bullies only ten years ago. Now he was a novice mage who could probably pass the magical skills part of his Test if he took it tomorrow. Not the rest of it, though. Dalamar hadn't been lying there. Dalamar sighed and sat back down at the large wooden desk. His eyes looked at the correspondence from Justarius, but his mind wasn't on it.

The boy was growing up. And when he grew up, would he try to take back the Tower? Dalamar knew the ghosts still revered him, and the Tower's power called to him for all of his dreams of being a White Robe running around doing good. The crisis might still be a while off yet, but the situation would have to be dealt with one day, one way or the other.

Dalamar really hoped he wouldn't have to kill his son to keep the Tower.

* * *

Carin arrived on the ground just outside the Inn of the Last Home. He looked up the long stairway, abruptly aware that Caramon had no idea he was coming and it had been ten months since he'd been here last. Still, it was an inn after all…

A small reddish head stuck out the door and looked down. "Carin!" yelled the boy. It then disappeared, though Carin could hear him yell "Dad, Carin's come to visit!"

Carin smiled. Unannounced or not, it didn't look like he'd be unwelcome. He started climbing the steps. By the time he'd reached the top there were three children waiting for him. The oldest two were out of breath, having clearly arrived across a rope bridge at top speed. Palin wasn't, but they all hauled off and hugged Carin, babbling questions like overexcited puppies.

"Dad didn't say you were coming!" "How long are you staying for?" "Can you teach me more magic tricks?" "I've got a real belt knife now!" "The cat had kittens yesterday and I've got to show you!"

Carin laughed, as always not quite sure what to answer first. His cousins could be a bit overwhelming. "In a minute, and one at a time. I need to talk to your Father first."

"Carin?" said Caramon as he appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing here? Why don't you come inside and put that bag down."

Caramon frowned at Sturm and Palin. "Let go of your cousin so he can move."

In a minute or so Carin was ensconced at a table with his bag on the floor beside him. "Not that we're not glad to see you, but this is a surprise." said Caramon.

"It's a bit of a long story, but Dalamar sort of kicked me out of the Tower."

"What!"

"Not like that! He just thinks I need more experience of the world outside the Tower, so he's kicked me out and told me not to come back for a year or so. I don't really know what I plan to do or where I'm going to go out here yet, but Solace seemed like a good place to start. I'm sorry I didn't warn you before descending on you like this but he only sprang this on me two days ago and I didn't have any way to make the message arrive faster than I would."

"Two days? Dalamar is a real jerk sometimes, isn't he? Never mind, forget I said that. You're always welcome here for however long you choose to stay. I've told you that before."

"I can and will do things to help out while I'm here. I won't be a burden."

"You're no burden, kid. You're family."

Carin smiled at his uncle. Sometimes it was nice to deal with someone so straightforwardly friendly. No hidden agendas, no dark secrets… "Thank you."

Carin parked his bag in the room that some wit long ago had nicknamed 'Raistlin's room' - Carin still couldn't get his amusement at the sheer appropriateness of the name out of his head - and was promptly pounced on and dragged off to see the new kittens, which he duly pronounced to be very cute.

He couldn't help but notice the orange one nearest the mother cat's left front paw was awfully small. Carin gently picked the little tom up and looked him over. The kitten squeaked in protest, nudging blindly at his hand. "It's ok little one," said Carin softly. "I won't hurt you." The kitten might be small, but it seemed reasonably healthy otherwise. Hopefully he would be all right. Carin put him back.

"Dad says that one is a runt," said Tanin.

"He is very small," agreed Carin.

"He's really cute," said Palin. "Even I can hold him in one hand." He bent to demonstrate.

"We should probably let him get on with eating," said Carin. "He's too young to be picked up much."

The boys agreed and they soon moved on to other things.

* * *

After the boys had been amused by stories of life in the Tower of Palanthas and tales of long ago and been sent to bed, Carin stayed up washing dishes and talking to Caramon and Tika.

"There's more to the story than you told me earlier, isn't there?" said Caramon.

"It is true, but yes. Basically, I've been doing very well in my studies and have gotten a long way ahead of where most are at my age. That wasn't a problem when I was twelve, but neither Dalamar nor I want me to be pushed into taking the Test until I'm older and ready in other ways. So I need to do something other than studying magic all day for a while."

"Who in the name of Paladine wants you to take the Test now? Even Raistlin was a year and a half older than you are and the Test nearly killed him! They are either mad, or they want you dead." said Caramon.

"Not right now, and Dalamar didn't say who, but we're trying to keep it from happening too soon."

"By all means, stay as long as you need and we'll find you plenty of non-magical work to do. There's always stuff needing doing around an inn."

"That there is," said Tika. "The manger in the last stall has come loose again, for starters."

"I didn't mean no magic, just not living and breathing nothing but every single day." interjected Carin hastily.

"It'll be good for you. You're too pale and skinny. You need to get out in the sun more." said Caramon.

And so Carin's sojourn in Solace began.


	16. A Palin Problem

Carin rapidly found himself with a lot of stuff to do to keep him busy. Unfortunately, he was bad at such chores as shoveling out the stables, and soon found himself making the intimate acquaintance of blisters, sunburn, and muscles he hadn't known he had. Most people were polite enough not to laugh. Most of the time. Carin could see they found his problems hilarious, and got sarcastic in response.

At least he hadn't come down with pneumonia like the first time he'd been here. That really would have taken the cake.

It wasn't all shoveling out the stables. His cousins had a tendency to haul him off with them at the slightest opportunity. And then there was Palin.

Carin hadn't been there a day when Palin asked him to teach him magic. "Not more stage magic, the real thing. I want to learn to do what you can, Uncle Raistlin could, and Master Theobald teaches. I'll work really hard, I promise!"

* * *

That brought up a question that Carin finally bearded Caramon with after another week had passed and Palin had asked another four times. "Uncle, why isn't Palin studying magic? He wants to desperately, and I think he has the ability."

"He's too young, and he doesn't really understand what it means."

"He's older than Raistlin or I were when we started learning. And as old as some of the students at Palanthas tower, who are not raw beginners when they come there."

"He's still too young. It will do him no harm to wait a couple of years and see if that's really what he wants. It's not as if he can tell the difference between stage magic and the real thing at this point."

"Actually, he can and does." Carin remembered the determined look in Palin's eyes. "He told me the stage magic wasn't real and asked me to teach him the language of magic."

Caramon groaned. "I was hoping he'd lose interest before he realized that."

"Like a hawk chick won't want to fly if taught to swim?"

"He's still too young. And no, don't argue. Look at what happened to Raistlin! And you! You're here because you learned too much too young and are now in danger of being killed by a Test intended for those half a decade or more older than you."

Carin winced. Caramon definitely had a point there. But he wasn't the only one who could play that game…

"Would you have him meet your mother's fate, then? Dying locked in his own mind because those around him were afraid of the magic?"

"You don't… you don't really think that would happen to Palin, do you?"

"If he's got the ability as strongly as I do, and he doesn't learn how to use it, it will use him. So yes, he might meet that fate. And let me tell you – if the Test kills me I'd rather die that way than the way your mother did!"

"Leaving it another couple of years won't hurt him." There was a desperate note in Caramon's voice.

"Why wait?"

"Because I don't want him pushed into taking the test at 20 and being crippled by it for the rest of his life!" Caramon glared at Carin, beet red in the face. "I'll let him take classes with Theobald next year if he still wants to, but not yet."

Carin held his gaze, then nodded. "But you get to explain that to Palin."


End file.
